


Fix You ~Niall Horan Love Story~

by KitIsTheOne



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Confliction, F/M, Friendship, Horan - Freeform, Judging - Freeform, Niall Horan - Freeform, Original Fiction, POV First Person, POV Original Character, School, niall - Freeform, one direction - Freeform, torn - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-09 09:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 48,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitIsTheOne/pseuds/KitIsTheOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t think you understand,” he said sharply in my ear, his nails digging into my forearm and making me whimper.  “Exactly who you’re standing up to.”</p>
<p>	“Please,” I pleaded with him, cowering away as much as I could.  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”</p>
<p>	“You’re right,” he hissed.  “You weren’t thinking.  Which is why I’m going to teach you to think about your actions.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is my original idea :) ♥</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One.

“I don’t think you understand,” he said sharply in my ear, his nails digging into my forearm and making me whimper.  “Exactly who you’re standing up to.”

 

“Please,” I pleaded with him, cowering away as much as I could.  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

 

“You’re right,” he hissed.  “You weren’t thinking.  Which is why I’m going to teach you to think about your actions.”

 

I let out a squeak as he dug his nails in further.  There was sure to be marks - there always were.  My chest was tight as I fended off worried tears brimming my eyes.  Niall scared me, more than anything ever had - or probably ever will.

 

Suddenly, my bag was ripped from its position on my shoulder.  I almost let out a sigh of relief as his I felt his fingers retreat from my welted skin.  But the relief was short-lived, seeing him dig his hand through my bag.  There was nothing I could do.  I rubbed my arm, my fingers moving across the small, but definite fingernail indentations left behind.

 

I watched on as he continued to dig through my bag, then found what he was searching for.  I gasped as he let my bag and the rest of its contents drop to the floor, revealing my literacy project in his hands - a four page essay on the history and play-writes of William Shakespeare.  I’d written it out in pen across lined paper, and it still needed to be typed up.  A four page essay that I’d failed to keep hidden from Niall.  The project was due tomorrow.  I should have known he’d use this as an incentive.

 

“Don’t,” I said weakly, scooping up the contents of my bag and trying not to let my gaze fall to my marked arm.  “Please, I’m sorry.”

 

“You should’ve thought about that before you opened your mouth,” he snapped, kicking my notebook out of my hands and clear across the hall.

 

Everyone had left the school, since it was five o’clock.  Niall and I had to stay after, since I’d been assigned his tutor for the past several months.  No one, not even the teachers were around to see interactions like this between Niall and I.  He was an excellent actor, Niall.  He could get anyone to believe him.  Unfortunately, he’d made a point of making  _me_  seem like the one being short-tempered with  _him_.  I can assure you, this was not the case.

 

“Niall, I was just suggesting that-”

 

My words were cut off by the deafening sound of paper tearing.  My jaw dropped as I saw four pieces of paper torn into eight.  Then sixteen, then even more.  I cried out as he let the papers flutter to the floor, scattering them with his feet.

 

“Oh my God!” I whispered, scrambling to keep track of all the pieces.  I’d spent hours on it, several days worth of work and research.  And Niall had made short work of it, diminishing it in seconds.

 

“Next time you tell me I’m wrong, or call me stupid,” he spat, resting his foot on the last piece I’d failed to collect.  “It’ll be much worse than this.”

 

With that, he turned on his heel and stalked down the empty hallway.  As soon as he’d cleared the corner, I sank to the ground.  I was worn out and needed a break.  No one was there to see me, anyway.

 

I took several shaky breaths, trying to calm myself.  My essay laid on the floor beside me, but I made no attempt to gather it up anymore.  My forearm tingled with pain where Niall’s nails had dug into my skin, and I turned it over, not surprised to find a small amount of blood coming from one of the indents.

 

It was always like this.  Niall would flare up at the smallest things, taking his anger out on me.  I’d gotten used to it, but I know I shouldn’t have.  I should’ve told a teacher or counsellor or  _someone_ , but who would believe that the angelic boy could inflict such damage on an unimportant tutor girl?  I was the girl who got good grades and did what she was told.  I didn’t speak out, not on purpose, anyway.  But somehow, I always got in Niall’s way.  There was always something that he’d find to blame his insults and attacks on.

 

Another shaky breath left me, bringing a tear with it.  Why was Niall so horrible to me?  What had I ever done to him?  I didn’t understand, and it was so frustrating to be hurt for something I didn’t have any knowledge of doing.  Every day it was a different kind of tear; sadness, worry, anxiety, frustration, fear, anger.   _What had I done wrong?_

 

When I was sure it’d been enough time for Niall to exit the school grounds, I finally picked myself up from the ground.  I slung my bag over my shoulder, then stooped to pick up my shredded essay.  I took a look at one piece and decided I’d never figure out the puzzle to piece this back together.  The words were smudged, and the pieces were impossibly torn at jagged angles.  I’d just have to rewrite the whole thing.

 

Letting out yet another shaky and frustrated breath, I picked up each piece and dumped them into the wastebasket.  I walked out of the building then, head ducked low in hopes of avoiding any glances, as if anyone would care about me.

 

Niall was good at one thing - making me feel and seem worthless.  I had no friends, only the acquaintances in classes I barely talked in at all.  Every day I woke up, I thought about how I’d get put down today - a simple, “You’re nothing,” or a more up-front approach, “You’re not good enough to live.”  These comments tortured me.  I knew I wasn’t worthless or stupid, but I sure as hell felt it.  Niall had flipped my happy life upside-down from the moment he walked in.

 

I made my way across the lot as quickly as possible, then sped home in my car.  Mum and Dad were both gone on separate business trips, so I quietly let myself in the house.  At every turn, at least one of his many insults floated into my brain.

 

I didn’t put my shoes away -  _always making trouble for everyone else._ I didn’t do the dishes when I saw the pile near the sink -  _worthless._   I stumbled up the steps a bit -  _clumsy and incompetent._

 

Along with the emotional pain, though, I always had some sort of physical injury going on.  Today happened to be the bleeding nail marks on my arm.  Last week it was a shove into the wall.  The week before then it was a hard pinch to the side.  And so much more, even before that.

 

I felt like my life was out of control.  I couldn’t confide in my parents, they’d never answer.  I couldn’t fix it myself - I’d already tried that today, and that didn’t work.  I tried to avoid the continuous pain throughout the school year, but I obviously couldn’t control pain brought on by others.  But I could control the pain I brought upon myself.

 

I stumbled into the bathroom and threw on the sink.  Without thinking about it, I dug under the counter and pulled out a box of shaving razors.  I ripped the top off of one and hit it against the floor, cracking the plastic holding the blades.  Ripping off my shirt, I watched in the mirror as I traced a line below the line of my bra, right next to all the others.  My breath hitched as the cut grew to three inches long, a line of blood escaping the cut and trailing down my torso.

 

A sigh of relief escaped me as I felt the sweet, sweet pain fill me.  This was something I could control.  I couldn’t control Niall, or anyone else set on hating me.  I couldn’t control what he did to me, how he treated me.  But I could control how I treat myself.  And that - that was so relieving.

 

I dropped the bloody razor into the wastebasket and kicked my shirt across the floor as I opened the sink to find a washcloth.  I held it under the warm water of the sink, then pressed it to my wound.  I bit my lip as the warmth stung my body, and I looked down to see the cloth already tinged pink with blood.  Then Niall’s nail marks caught my eye.  I’d have to cover those up, or else Niall would do worse to me for letting them show.

 

But what did I care?  He’d already done so much to me.

 

 

 

* * *

**This is my first story like this, I hope you like it!  Leave me a comment :)**


	2. Chapter 2

It took me several minutes to clean up the blood that had dropped to the tiled floor. Since my parents were gone, I could take as much time as I needed - and in this case, I’d needed a lot. 

The first half hour was to gather myself and pick up the shattered razor frame, tossing it in the wastebasket on top of the used blade. The next hour was used to shower, letting the sting back into my body and yet again feeling some type of relief. The remainder of the evening was spent in just a sports bra, letting the new cut air out while I attempted to recreate my essay on my computer.

I had a hard time putting thoughts together, though. The nail marks on the underside of my arm still caught my eye. For a moment, I thought about covering them up with foundation or something, but I decided just to let them be there. A reminder of Niall’s insults.

I worked late into the night, my sagging eyelids beckoning me into sleep. I refused to fall, though. I needed to get the essay done - again. What had taken me days to create had to be compacted into a few hours. It was not my best work - in fact, if I were in any other state of mind, I would’ve been embarrassed. But my limited time pushed me on, and I had to comply.

It was about four in the morning when I finally fell asleep, printed essay sitting on my bedside table.

 

\---

 

“Samm,” Mr. Robertson stopped me as I was walking out of the classroom.

“Yes?” I asked quietly, stepping aside to allow the rest of the students to pass behind me.

Mr. Robertson’s gaze followed the last student out the door, obviously waiting for privacy. When the door closed, he shifted in his chair so that his shoulders were square to mine.

“Your essay,” he said, and my chest automatically tightened. I was tired through all of writing it, but that was still no excuse for the poor workmanship I’d turned in. “Seemed to have a few mistakes and misinformation, Ms. Carter.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said quietly, watching his fingers drum against the surface of his desk. “I know it’s not my best work. Please forgive me, there was a complication with-”

“-What complication?” he questioned.

I flinched. I hadn’t meant to say complication. The word had just slipped my lips. If I even tried to tell anyone about Niall, they’d either laugh in my face or join in with him. I feared that Mr. Robertson would be the same.

“I-I had to-” I stuttered, searching for a cover as my anxiety grew more and more. Thankfully, I didn’t have to concoct a lie before he spoke again.

“Samm,” he said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his concerned eyes. “I’m just going to say that if you ever turn in something like that again, your tutoring privileges will be revoked.”

My stomach dropped. Though I had to tutor Niall, tutoring got me credits to use in future years, along with being able to put it down on a college application. Basically, if I didn’t have tutoring on my application, I had nothing. And Mr. Robertson had the ability to take away my tutoring privileges - he’d been the one to assign them to me. And the worst thing was that he knew this work was not quality. He knew it’d been thrown together.

“I understand completely,” I said quickly, staring down at the ground. I probably shouldn’t have, but I gave him another excuse. “I was pressed for time.”

“Hmm,” he said, setting his glasses back on the brim of his nose and tapping his chin with a pencil. “I expected better from you. You’re my top student, Ms. Carter. And you had two weeks to complete this assignment.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Mr. Robertson sighed. “Don’t let it happen again,” he said, waving me off. “You can’t be a tutor without sufficient grades.”

I nodded. Without another word, I hustled out the door. By now, the hall was clearing for lunch. While some students stayed at school to eat, others left for take out and fast food - I just sat in my car.

So that’s where I headed next. I didn’t bother to stop in my locker, just brought my notebook with me as I ducked into the driver’s side and pulled out the lunch I kept in my glove compartment. Ignoring the weird feeling I got in the pit of my stomach when my eyes flitted to Niall’s nail marks - partially hidden by foundation - I took out my sandwich and began to munch away.

People watching was always fun. Though I felt odd watching them, everyone was always doing something interesting in some way. There was a group of girls, all on their phones and chatting up a storm while giggling and heading to their cars. There were a few boys horsing around, a teacher digging in the bed of his truck. My eyes danced around the whole lot while I ate, just watching people while they carried on.

But as soon as my eyes fell to him, I stopped what I was doing.

My sandwich was placed in the bag on the seat beside me, and I shifted so that I was turned away from him. Niall had been just leaving the school, phone pulled out. I hoped he hadn’t seen me - but then again, when had I ever had any luck? I simply shrunk back into the seat praying that today would be the day that he’d ignore my presence.

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest when I heard the abrupt raps on the window.

My head jolted around, knowing who I’d see - the only person who ever bothered to pay me any attention. Niall was glaring down at me, arms crossed in threatening manner. I gulped, then cursed myself for reaching out to roll down the window. I regretted it even before the window was completely rolled down.

His hand, seemingly lightning fast, darted out and grabbed my wrist, wrenching it toward him and making me yelp in surprise. I couldn’t do anything but watch as his expression changed from anger to bit of disbelief. Niall inspected the scabs his nails had left, along with the bruises the rest of his hand had made.

“You need to do a better job of covering up,” he scoffed, shoving my hand back through the window. I gasped as it hit me just below my chest, right where my newest cut had been made. “No one’s going to want to look at you - as if they do already. You’re an attention whore, Samm.”

My lower lip quivered under his malevolent expression, not knowing how to answer. Niall had that affect on me - insulting me into silence. I didn’t know how to respond, or even if I should. Anything to just make him stop. But though I did everything I could think of, he never did.

“You’re pathetic,” he continued on, menacing hands gripping the frame of my car tightly. “You think that just by letting them show, someone’s going to want to do anything about it? They already think as little as possible of you. You have to earn such luxuries as friends, but how can you? You’re not worth it.”

I couldn’t do anything but keep my gaze straight ahead, straight out my windshield. Tears clouded my vision, but I didn’t let a single one fall. I wouldn’t give Niall yet another reason to insult me like this. I’d just wait it out, wait for him to release me from this horrible session of name-calling. It wasn’t until I felt a horrid pressure in my upper arm that I craned my neck toward Niall.

I looked from him to his strong hand grasping my shoulder, a vice-like grip causing me to let out a whimper of pain. He was taking my pain out of my own control again, I hated it. I needed to be in control of me - I needed the feeling of power. But Niall had control, like he always did.

“Please,” I said quietly, cowering away from his touch.

“Cover it up, Samm,” he growled, his voice a low tone. “Or else your paper won’t be the only thing torn to pieces.”

My mouth fell open, but I quickly closed it again. I nodded, squeezing my eyes tightly so no tears escaped. A sigh of relief almost left my lungs as the pain in my shoulder subsided. I took a shaky breath, then opened my eyes to find Niall several feet away, walking back toward the school. With a quiet whimper in the back of my throat, I reached out to roll the window back up, but felt a soreness in my shoulder muscles.

I pushed back my sleeve after I’d let the window close completely and examined where Niall’s hand had been. There was a clear red mark where the pressure had been the most, and it had already started to bruise in some places. I grimaced, rolling my sleeve back down. Now that I had two defined marks on my arm, I’d probably just wear long sleeves to save the trouble of applying foundation.

My chest was still tight from the encounter, my breathing heavy and strained as I opened the glove compartment and pulled out a tube of foundation. While I slathered the thick cream over the scabs on my forearm, I went over what I’d been called this time.

Attention whore. Pathetic. Worthless.

Just some of the usual words. But that didn’t make them any less painful - pain that I couldn’t control.

As soon as I’d finished applying the foundation, I tossed it back into the glove compartment and shrunk back into the seat. My breathing still heavy, I brought my hand up to lightly brush my newest cut, covered with a thin shirt. Slowly I applied pressure, a sharp pain flooding through my midsection and a cold tear running down my cheek. Pain, caused by me. Something that I could control - I felt pulled together again.

Niall could control the pain he placed upon me. But I could play the same game - I could bring my thoughts back together.

But the problem still held - who was winning this game?


	3. Chapter Three

It took me until the end of lunch break to completely pull myself together again. By the time I was getting out of my car, my midsection had a dull ache going and my eyes were a light pink that could pass off as tiredness. The marks on my arm were undetectable to the glancing eye, but I still knew that they were there. Foundation couldn’t cover up my pain.

I fell into step with all of the other students making their way to seventh hour. Only two periods left in the school day, and Niall and I thankfully didn’t have a tutoring session scheduled today - something or other about the derby right after school let out. I’d already taken the daily beating from Niall - that is, if he decided to let me be for our physics class, which happened to be next. Likeliness of that? None.

I stopped at my locker to grab my textbook, then weaved my way through the mass of students to Mrs. Dillard’s classroom. Niall was already sat down in his desk, and I had to pass him on the way back to mine. I gritted my teeth and lowered my head, then hurried past. I felt his eyes follow me like daggers in my back, but I tried to ignore the uncontrollable and mental pain he was causing me.

I sat down just as the bell rang, a few more students shuffling through the door and to their seats. Mrs. Dillard strolled into the room after shutting the door, a large glass jar in her hand. She set the jar on her desk at the front of the room, then turned to face the class with her hands on her hips.

“Good afternoon,” she said, as always. “I trust that your lunch went well?” She got no reply, per usual. She shrugged it off and grabbed a stack of notecards that had been in a pile on her desk. “When I pass these around,” she gestured to the cards, “I want you to put your names on them. Then I’ll pass around the jar so you can put them in there.”

“What is this for?” a boy in the front row asked, readjusting the glasses on the brim of his nose.

“Well, if I told you now, what fun would that be?” Mrs. Dillard giggled, sliding a notecard onto my desk as she walked by. “You’ll all see in a moment, anyway.”

I scribbled my name - Samm Carter - onto the notecard, then folded it in half like the other students had done. When Mrs. Dillard came around with the jar I dropped it in, along with everyone else. She made her way back up to her desk and placed it on top, then leaned back against the edge of the desk.

“Okay,” she chirped, clapping her hands together. Mrs. Dillard was always so cheery - I wished it rubbed off on me. “We’re a few weeks into the semester, and we’re studying transfers of energy and the laws of motion, so I think it’s time for a project.” Everyone in the class groaned, including me.

“Now, now,” the tsked, shaking her head. “You won’t be pulling this load alone. That’s why I had you put your names on these cards. We’ll be drawing for partners.”

I sighed quietly. Whenever we had a partner project I just ended up doing everything - because, like Niall said, no one wanted to even glance at me. My partner and I would meet for the times we were required to, but then I told the person I was working with that I’d take over if they wanted me to. They always said yes.

“First, though,” she continued. “I’ve got to explain the assignment.”

She made her way to the board, which had the projector’s screen over it. She quickly drew it up, revealing a step list of instructions.

“Obviously,” Mrs. Dillard said. “You’ll be getting your partners first. Second,” she gestured to the second step, “you’ll be moving to sit next to your partner, then I’ll hand out a sheet with further details. Third, you’ll be getting your assigned project - this project will be all about chain reactions and transfers of energy. This will entail an effect similar to falling dominoes, only on a more elaborate scale. Household items, wind energy, water energy. It’ll be a whole lot of fun!”

“So what’s the whole point of partners?” a boy asked lazily from the back of the room. I rested my chin on my hand while I waited to hear her answer.

“Well,” Mrs. Dillard explained. “This project will require a lot of time, more than the time we have in class. Though I’m sure you’re all capable of completing this assignment on your own, I think it’s a wonderful opportunity to improve your teamwork skills - along with learning the objective in a hands-on way. And I just want you to know that complaining about your pair will not be tolerated.”

When there were no more questions, Mrs. Dillard clapped her hands together and put on her usual cheerful expression. “So, on to partners.”

I mentally groaned. I wished that we could just do this individually - after all, I was quite the introvert. Working with others didn’t have a high place on my gifts list. Quite honestly, nothing did. Maybe I’d just do it on my own, then tell Mrs. Dillard that my partner and I had both worked on it.

“Oh, and one more thing,” she said as she pulled the glass jar into her lap. “There will be no ‘little red hens’ in this project. Since this will require time outside of class, you’ll all be given a video camera to record your construction and execution of the assignment.”

This time, I almost groaned out loud. A video camera. I’d have to put up with someone hating me throughout the whole assignment. I couldn’t believe it. This whole project was set up for my distaste.

“First pair,” Mrs. Dillard said, cheerful tone still prominent. “Carson and Millie.” She set their notecards aside, then reached her hand into the jar again. “Second pair; Michael and Ryan.” The two boys - obviously friends - slapped high-fives. “Third pair; Camry and Jo. Fourth pair; Fay and Evan.” By this point, I was tapping my pencil’s eraser against the desk, just waiting for my name to be called. “Fifth pair; Parker and Mariah. Sixth pair; Samm and Niall.”

My heart stopped.

Immediately I sat up straighter, trying to figure out if I’d heard right. Samm and Niall. Though I’d heard it, it didn’t seem right. I couldn’t be paired with Niall - spending more time with him than I already had to… I didn’t know if I’d survive it.

But Niall’s hateful glare confirmed my fears.

I couldn’t focus, not with Niall’s gaze, not with my rattling brain. There was no way I could be paired with him. There would be no ‘teamwork’, only abuse and hateful words. And we’d have to film the whole thing.

“Okay, kiddos!” Mrs. Dillard piped, apparently finished with partnering. “Let’s get organized!”

She went about pointing to tables, having each partnership sitting at a different one. Niall and I sat at a table in the back of the room, and I gulped as I placed my things on the table next to his.

“Let me just make very clear,” Niall hissed, quiet enough to that only I could hear. “There will be no teamwork. There is no way that I will stoop to your level. We will never be a ‘team’; we will never be equal. What I say, goes.”

All I could do was nod slightly. If I disobeyed him, I’d get hurt - both emotionally and physically. Throughout the duration of this project, I’d probably do just about anything to stay safe from him. As long as I didn’t have to suffer Niall’s beatings.

“So,” Mrs. Dillard said as she came around to each table. “I’m passing out a paper for your partnership. The assignment is explained on here. I suggest that you read it over together, then make plans for working outside of school hours. We’ll be continuing on in our unit while you complete this project, and you’ll have until the end of the semester to do it. Procrastination will kill you in this project, so I suggest that you get right on it.”

She slid a paper onto mine and Niall’s table. I reached out for it, but Niall snatched it away before I could get to it. He shot me another glare before shifting his shoulders away from me, so I couldn’t see the paper. I huffed quietly, leaning my elbows on the table and setting my chin in my hands.

“Suitable workplaces,” Mrs. Dillard continued, “are places indoors, such as your house. Your projects must be constructed in a controlled environment, where weather and other outside forces are not a factor. In the filming of your project, you must include a step-by-step explanation of how your model works, and what energy transfers will be made. There must also be an end goal, such as clicking a mouse or remote to turn on a TV - or anything else that you’d like.” She clapped her hands together again. “I’ll let you all get to work, now. Make sure to have fun with this as well.”

The room then erupted into conversation, each partnership starting on either project ideas or gossip of the day - except Niall and I. I didn’t know how to start a conversation - let alone a project - with Niall without becoming the target. I was so afraid of getting hurt that I didn’t even know how to talk to him. Getting hurt was such a part of the normal in being around him, that I was used to the plunging of my stomach when his gaze fell on me.

“Normally, I’d tell you to stay the hell away from me,” he said, eyes shooting daggers. “But since that’s not an option here, we’re going to do things my way.” He shoved the project sheet at me. “You’re going to do what I say, when I say. And since I have no interest in seeing the inside of your house - which is sure to be horrid - we’ll be at my house. If there’s a problem, get over it.”

I swallowed, tapping my finger on the table nervously. Niall scribbled something down on a piece of paper, then slid it over to me. It was his address. My stomach dropped even further. If he was horrible to me at school, what would he be like when we were completely alone? I nearly shuddered at the thought.

“Here,” he said, tone still harsh. “We’re skipping tutoring today because of the derby game. Be at my house at five, right after the game ends. I already know what we’re going to do, you just have to get your pathetic ears to listen.”

He stood up as the bell rang, leaving me holding the slip of paper. He walked a few feet and I stood, gathering my things. I was about to turn when his voice stopped me.

“And I see you’ve covered up. Good girl.”

And with that, Niall strode out of the physics lab, leaving me out of breath and staring blankly at the faint nail marks on my forearm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry, loves! I just realized that I've only posted the next several chapters on my other blog. I will soon be fixing that, and posting chapters until I get my most recent finished. Thanks so much for being patient!


	4. Four.

Much to my displeasure, last period went by the fastest it had ever gone.  I felt myself dreading the short walk out to my car, knowing that in an hour I’d have to be over at Niall’s house.

 

Niall’s _house_.

 

My stomach plummeted for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.  As I drove home, I thought of all the things that might happen to me.  He’d call me worse names, hurt me worse than he had before.  Really, Niall was capable of just about anything.

 

My grip tightened on the steering wheel as I pulled into my driveway.  As I pulled into my garage and turned off the car, I realized that my hands wouldn’t come undone from the wheel.  I didn’t want to go to Niall’s house.  But I had to.

 

After I’d finally worked my hands from the wheel, I shuffled inside.  At least Mum and Dad were still gone, so they didn’t have to see my increasingly long face and darkened mood.  They’d pick it up right away, no matter how well I could hide it.

 

I dropped my bag to the floor next to the doormat, then kicked my shoes off and stowed them away.  Taking the stairs slowly and one at a time, I made my way up to my room to change into a song sleeved shirt and jeans.  The shirt was gray and the jeans were an odd shade of blue, but it seemed a good fit.  I went back down stairs to whip up some food, then ate as slow as time would allow.

 

Much to my dismay, though, five o’clock was approaching fast.  I wasn’t really sure what to bring, so I just grabbed my notebook and a water bottle, then headed out the door.

 

It was about 4:55 when I pulled into Niall’s driveway.  I set the slip of paper with his address on it in the passenger’s seat, then let out a long breath.  Usually I tried to avoid getting hurt by Niall.  But now I was walking right into it without a choice.  I didn’t really know much about Niall’s life outside of school, so I didn’t know what to expect - I didn’t know if he had any sibling, or if he even lived with his parents.  Niall was completely unknown to me.

 

It took all of the willpower I possessed to gather my things and climb out of the car.  My steps were heavy as I walked up to his front door.  I slowly raised my hand and knocked lightly against the door.  My heart was beating rapidly, and I was sure that anyone could hear it from a mile away.  What was this going to be like?

 

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the door swung open, revealing a short, blonde haired woman.  I was a little taken aback by the kindness in her expression, when I’d been expecting Niall’s hateful glares.  Suddenly, I thought I had the wrong house.

 

“Oh,” I said, the corners of my mouth faltering.  I’d be late if I had the wrong address, and that wouldn’t end well.  “I’m sorry for bothering you, I thought this was-”

 

“Are you Samm?” she asked sweetly, a winning smile gracing her expression.

 

“Erm,” I said, running a hand through my dark hair.  “Yes I am.”

 

“I’m Maura,” she replied happily, sticking out her hand.  “Niall’s mum.”

 

My jaw nearly dropped as I took her hand a shook it unsurely.  _This_ was Niall’s mum?  How could such a kind woman raise such a hateful boy?  I almost didn’t believe it - until I saw the familiar nose and eyes.  Only Maura’s weren’t threatening.

 

“Well come right in,” she said, releasing my hand and gesturing to what looked like the living room.

 

I walked through the door, still extremely unsure of what was going on.  What I’d always known from Niall - hate, bitterness, abuse - was not reflected in Maura.  It seemed unreal.  I kicked off my shoes and nudged them to the rug next to the door.

 

“Have a seat,” she gestured to the sofa.  “Make yourself at home.  I’ll go get him.”

 

I suddenly tensed but nodded, though I didn’t sit down.  I simply set my notebook and water bottle down on the coffee table, then rubbed my hands together nervously.  What would Niall be like around his mum?  Would he still be hateful?

 

“Niall!” I heard Maura call up the stairs.  “Samm is here!”  I bit my lip at the muffled reply, obviously Niall’s voice.  “He’ll be down in a second,” Maura said after turning to me.

 

I nodded again and shuffled my feet.  I felt better having Maura in the house.  She didn’t seem like the type to tolerate cruelty, and for that I was thankful.  Turning toward the wall, I began to study all of the pictures decorating it.  Most were of a younger Niall, then of Maura and who I assumed was her husband, and another boy a bit older than Niall.  The Niall in the pictures looked so happy, so…  Adorable.  I almost felt myself begin to smile, but a warm hand on my shoulder made me gasp quietly.

 

I whirled around.  Niall was standing there, just looking as if I’d done the oddest thing on earth.  He had no hate - no fire - in his eyes.  Only a soft and neutral expression.  Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure I had the right _Niall_.

 

“H-hi,” I said cautiously, subconsciously crossing my arms.

 

“Hi,” he replied, letting his arm drop to his side.  He was still giving me that odd look, as if he wasn’t sure why I was acting this way.

 

“I have some snacks, if you want them,” Maura said sweetly, holding out a small plate of crackers and cheese.

 

“No, that’s alright Mum,” Niall told her.  My jaw nearly dropped for the third time in just five minutes.  His tone was so…  Not the hostile Niall I’d always known.  His voice was almost…  Sweet.

 

“Alright, just let me know if you need anything,” Maura said, walking back into the kitchen.

 

“Thanks Mum,” Niall replied.

 

There was a bit of _completely_ awkward silence before Niall cleared his throat.  I straightened unintentionally, my arms still crossed as he spoke.

 

“So, shall we get this thing going?”

 

I couldn’t even _begin_ to describe the mixed emotions surging through me.  What in the world _was_ this?  Niall was being decent?  Pinch me, I must be dreaming.

 

“Sure,” I said, my voice still having that uncertainty to it.  I followed him to the sofa and sat a reassuring three feet away from him.  Though I shouldn’t have been questioning this sudden change in his character, I found myself still extremely unsure of this boy.

 

“So,” he said, pulling a sheet of paper out of his pocket.  “The idea of the project was pretty simple, I guess.  But I’m not so sure on how to map it all out.  Do you have any suggestions?”

 

I just sat there, gaping at him.  How in the world could he pull this off?  How did he go from being a monster in school to this…  Decent human being?  This soft expression on his face made him seem pleasant, almost…  _likable_.  I didn’t believe it.  I couldn’t.  I wouldn’t.  He was putting up a façade.

 

It took me a bit to figure out he’d asked a question.

 

“Oh - erm - I - uhh,” I stuttered, at a loss for words.  This whole atmosphere about him threw me off, and I didn’t like it.

 

“Maybe we could just start by figuring out our end goal,” Niall suggested, cocking his head to the side.

 

“Erm - yeah, sure,” I said quietly, averting his gaze.  It wasn’t because of the usual hatefulness, though.  It was because of the _un_ usual courteousness about him.  “What do you want to do?” I asked, remembering the whole, ‘You’re going to do what I say, when I say’, threat I’d gotten from him earlier.  A chill ran up my spine, but I stifled the movement.

 

Niall shrugged.  “I was thinking about kicking a football into a goal.”  I only nodded - I couldn’t do anything else.  I was too incredibly stunned.  “Want me to go get my notebook?” he continued.  “We could write down ideas for in-between stuff in there.”

 

I simply shrugged, still not saying anything.  Niall cocked an eyebrow at me, then nodded and stood up.  He jogged up the stairs and disappeared around a corner.  My eyes widened in my own disbelief as soon as he was gone.  I let out a long breath, still trying to comprehend what’d just happened.  My hand brushed against the scabbed nail marks on my forearm, and I looked down at them as if they were alien.  How could Niall have made these if he was acting like this?

 

Niall came jogging down the stairs again, notebook and pen in hand.  I took a drink of my water as he sat down and flipped his book open.  He jotted down _Project Ideas_ , then glanced at me.

 

“What should go first?” he asked, turning his head a bit to the side.

 

“Erm - Whatever you want, I guess,” I said, rubbing my neck.  I didn’t even know how to deal with this Niall.  It was so abnormal that I just… I couldn’t even put together a full sentence.

 

The left corner of Niall’s mouth turned up in a side smile.  “We _are_ partners, you now.  You have a say in this as well.”

 

It took all I had in me not to fall over.  What was going _on_?  Where was the hostile Niall?  The one that made me dread waking up every morning?  The one that’s tortured me for months on end?  So many questions flooded through my head, so many that I was too afraid to ask.  But there were two questions that stuck out the most.

 

_What kind of game was Niall playing?_ and _Was this a part of Niall that I could tolerate?_


	5. Chapter 5

Usually, encounters with Niall ended in my self-doubt and inflicting pain upon myself to feel in control again.  Usually, I was afraid to even walk out the door in the morning and face him.  But today…  Today, I felt like my life had gone back to normal - the normal where Niall and I coexisted without issue.

 

“Same time tomorrow,” Niall said from the couch as I put my shoes back on.  “We’ll figure the next half of the map out.”

 

I nodded.  “Alright.  Goodbye.”

 

And with that, I was out the door and to my car.  No tears, no new injuries, no pain.  Just…  Me.  In control again.

 

When I got home, I didn’t know what to do with myself.  All of my homework was done, I’d done my chores.  It was only eight.  On a normal day - well, I should say the days that Niall condescended and hurt me - those next few hours would’ve been used inflicting my own pain and cleaning up the mess I’d made.  But now…  I had _time_ on my hands.  And what did I do with it?

 

I took a shower and caught up on some much needed rest.

 

 

\---

 

 

The next morning I got up earlier than I had in a while.  This gave me time to actually style my hair, so I straightened out the soft waves with a flat iron.  I pulled on dark brown leggings and a plain off-white shirt, then headed downstairs for breakfast.  Toast seemed like the easiest option, so while my bread was in the toast I got out some jam to go with it.

 

While I ate, my gaze flickered over to my bag.  My notebook was hanging out the top, the notebook I’d taken down notes for Niall and my project in.  My thoughts drifted from the notebook, to the project, to the Niall I’d witnessed yesterday.  The Niall that had thrown me completely off-kilter.  The kind, bearable Niall.

 

Would that be the Niall I’d encounter today?  Or would that have just been…  I don’t know what in the world that could’ve been.  Niall had become unpredictable.

 

I shook my head, forcing myself not to think about it.  I’d just see when I got there.

 

 

\---

 

 

I don’t know whether I was disappointed or relieved that I had no morning classes with Niall.  I hadn’t seen Niall yet that day, and part of me was eager to see that benevolent side of him again.

 

So when eighth hour came around, I was in my seat early and expectant.  Niall walked in as the bell rang, a neutral expression on his face.  It could go anywhere from there.

 

“Well,” Mrs. Dillard said cheerily as she closed the door of the classroom.  “I trust that your first get-together with your partners went well.”

 

Several murmurs erupted, and I glanced over at Niall with a smile.  I let the corners of my mouth drop as soon as I saw the familiar glare in his eyes again.  He was back to the old Niall.

 

“So,” Mrs. Dillard continued, and I turned my head back to face her.  “I’ll be giving you your cameras today, so you can start to film your work processes.  Will one person from every table please come up to get one?”

 

I moved to get up, but a sharp pain in my thigh stopped me.  I gasped quietly and fell back into my chair as the pain increased.

 

“I’m not letting your filthy hands touch the camera,” Niall hissed in my ear, making me shy away.  Definitely the Niall I was familiar with.

 

I whimpered as the pressure on my thigh increased suddenly, then subsided.  As Niall got up to get a camera, I rubbed my thigh gingerly.  The leggings I wore did nothing to dampen the blow of his nails.  There would be bruises, just as there always were.

 

I let my hair shield my discouraged expression as Niall sat down again, setting the camera out in front of him.  What had gotten into him yesterday?  What had put him into such a nice mood?  And what had gotten him out of it?

 

I couldn’t ask those questions.  When Niall was in this state of mind, he was dangerous and unapproachable.

 

Class went by fast than I’d expected, and as soon as the bell rang I was up and out of my seat.  Much to my dismay, Niall and I were seated at the back of the room, so I was stuck waiting behind the rest of the class.  Right in front of Niall.

 

“My mother was wrong to be hospitable to you,” he growled lowly, so only I would hear it.  “She couldn’t spot ‘worthless’ if she tried.”

 

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything.  _You were hospitable as well.  Were_ you _wrong?_

 

A sharp pain on the back of my head interrupted my thoughts, and I yelped as I felt a strong tug on my hair.

 

“Don’t bother trying to fix your hair, Samm,” he snapped, again so only I heard.  “You’re making it worse.”

 

I bit my lip to stop it from quivering, and finally the doorway was clear.  I darted out and down the hall, opposite the way I knew Niall had to go.  My next class was near Niall’s, but I wasn’t going there just yet.  I had seven minutes.

 

I veered off into the bathroom and placed myself in a stall, resting my notebook on top of the toilet paper holder and tearing out a piece of paper.  I’d never done this at school - but then, I’d never felt like I had to.  Niall’s torture almost always came after hours, when I had time to think about how out of control my life had gotten.  How out of control _I’d_ gotten.  But now, I hadn’t had time to think.  I only had time to act.

 

Since I didn’t have a blade on hand, I used the edge of a crisp notebook page to run a slim cut along the edge of my fourth finger.  I but my lip at the immediate sting of the paper cut, then sighed in relief as a drop of blood was squeezed from the cut.  Then I did the same for each finger, except my thumb.  Though the pain wasn’t as much as it usually was, some was better than nothing.

 

By the time I was finished and felt the slightest bit in control again, about five minutes had passed.  I tossed the bloody paper in the wastebasket on the way out after running my fingers under the water, then speed-walked down the hall toward my classroom.  Ducking in just as the bell rang, I made my way to my seat and began to listen in on the history lesson.  Or, I tried to listen.

 

My thoughts kept drifting to the events of the last two days.  I feared I would burst if my emotions and sanity continued to be toyed with.  If Niall was decent last night - something he’d never been before - then his old, horrid self today…

 

What would tonight bring?


	6. Chapter Six

When I got home, the first thing I did was put bandages on the ends of my fingers.  I didn’t know what I was thinking, attempting to regain control while at school.  I was stronger than that - I could’ve waited until I had more time.  I would’ve felt better.

 

But for now, I just grabbed a snack and waited.  I was anxious, though I didn’t know why.  I didn’t _want_ Niall to be horrible to me.  But I also wanted to know _why_ he is the way he is.  Why was Niall horrible at school, but when I came into his home, he was acting humane?

 

This was the type of thing running through my mind as I climbed in my car.  I flicked nervously through the stations on the radio, never settling on one long enough to let a song go by.  My sore fingers tapped away at the steering wheel, and were nearly numb by the time I pulled into Niall’s driveway.  Again, it took me a while to gather the willpower to exit the car and walk up to the door.  But when I finally did, I wasn’t greeted by Maura.  It was Niall.

 

“Hi,” he said casually, as if nothing was awkward between us.  As if he hadn’t dug his hand into my thigh and pulled my hair.  As if he’d never brought pain upon me before.  “Come in.”

 

I glanced up at him warily before slipping past him and kicking off my shoes.  My hands were shaking, and I was suddenly glad that I had my notebook to hold on to for support.  My lower lip was taken between my teeth as I followed him into the living room, placing myself the same distance of five feet as I had before.  He pulled out his notebook and began running through the notes we’d made yesterday.

 

“Hello, Samm!” Maura’s voice called from the kitchen.  “How are you?”

 

“Hi, Mrs. Horan,” I replied, shifting nervously.  “I’m fine, thanks.”

 

“Niall, honey, do you two need anything?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe with a dishcloth in her hand.

 

“We’re fine, Mum,” he said.  “Thanks.”

 

She smiled.  “Just let me know.”  With that, she walked back into the kitchen and began to hum quietly.  I wondered if she knew what her son was really like.

 

“So,” Niall said, setting his notebook halfway between us.  “Here’s what we accomplished yesterday.  What do you think we should add to it?”  He looked up at me, showing a light shade of blue to his eyes that I hadn’t seen before.

 

“Erm,” I said, my gaze falling from his.  “I don’t know.  Whatever you’d like.”  My words sounded unsure and wavering, and I cursed myself for sounding so vulnerable.

 

“Like I said, Samm.  We’re _partners_.  Partners work together.  It’s not all what I have to say.”

 

I fidgeted with my hands, picking at the ends of the bandages on my fingers.  What did I have to say to that?  He’d made it very clear yesterday that he wanted it _his_ way, then completely threw me off balance by being a human being and saying he actually wanted to hear what I had to say.  I shouldn’t have been complaining, though.  This was treatment I never got - still, I found myself somewhat afraid of this behavior.  What was Niall trying to pull?

 

“Well,” I said quietly, ignoring my instincts to back down completely.  “Since we have this here,” I pointed to a set of dominoes drawn on the notebook paper.  “I think that we should have the dominoes fall onto some sort of button - one that’s programmed to set off another physical reaction on another end.”

 

He seemed to analyze this for a minute, while my heart pounded in my chest.  “Do you know wiring?” he asked finally.  I nodded hesitantly, and Niall smiled.  “Brilliant.  We’ll write that one down.”

 

He sketched a fuse, wire, and button in the notebook at the end of the dominoes.  Once he was finished, he tapped the pencil against his chin.  I watched him, gauging his reaction.  My input hadn’t gotten any negative feedback - hell, I was surprised he even _considered_ my suggestion.  But I wasn’t only searching for a reaction in Niall.

 

I was beginning to notice things about him that I hadn’t before.  He had the smallest dimple in the middle of his chin.  His eyes were a lighter shade of blue than I’d thought.  A small array of freckles dotted his chin and neck.  There was a thin shade of brown at the base of his blond locks, telling me that his hair was bleached.  The right corner of his mouth always twitching up into a half smile.

 

All things that didn’t happen on the other side of Niall.

 

Is that what Niall was, now?  Just two sides, two halves of one whole?  One side of him showed one place, while the other appeared wherever was convenient?  I winced, too confused to think about that right now.  In fact, I was too confused to think about it _ever_.

 

“Samm,” he said, and I shook my head rapidly, trying to clear my thoughts.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You were staring off into space,” he commented, and I began growing wary of him again.  “Just thought I’d bring you back to planet Earth.  What do you want to do next?”

 

I bit my lip again.  “You mentioned wanting to have a football hit into a goal at the end,” I said.  “Is there a length requirement to the project?  We could do one more transition, then have the ball be hit.”

 

Niall nodded.  “Good idea.”  I let out a quiet breath I didn’t know I’d been holding in.  “Does a dropping mechanism sound alright?”

 

I nodded, as if he would’ve cared for my opinion.  But…  The curious look in his eyes told me that maybe…  Maybe he did care.  But I immediately dismissed the thought.  Niall was just acting, the game he played best.  That’s all this was, of course.  A game.  I was sure of it - at least, most of me was.  There was some small part of me that was starting to think that maybe there was a bigger reason for Niall’s seemingly split personality.

 

“Alright,” he said, tossing the notebook onto the coffee table.  “Looks like we’re done with planning.  Shall we start laying out some plans?”

 

I looked up to see him smiling a bit.  I couldn’t help but let the left corner of my mouth draw upward.  “Sure,” I said, then remembered the camera.  “Do you have Mrs. Dillard’s camera?”

 

His eyes brightened.  “Oh yeah,” he said.  “I’ll be right back.”

 

I let out a breath as Niall exited the living room and trotted up the stairs.  Shouldn’t I just enjoy this side of Niall while it was here?  Try to avoid him at school, then become less afraid of him here.  Should I not try with this welcoming side of him?

 

But I knew that would be a bad idea.  What if this side of him really _was_ an act?  What if he just wanted to seem approachable to get me to open up, then use what I’d let him see against me?  I knew that I shouldn’t take whatever bait he’s putting out.  I should hold up and remain conscious of his previous actions toward me.

 

“Smile for the camera,” I heard Niall say happily.

 

I looked up to find the camera’s recording light on, pointing at me.  Niall had a wide smile on his face, holding the camera close so he could see the small screen.  He looked so approachable - so _innocent_.  I suddenly felt that this wasn’t the Niall who’d tortured me for this long.  But I _knew_ that this was only a mask.

 

Yet, I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I hope to hear that you're all enjoying the story, I have truly loved writing it. This is the story that I am most proud of so far, and I hope it continues to be what you are all wanting.
> 
> Please do feel free to leave honest feedback, it really helps develop myself as a writer. I decided to post the next three chapters as a treat to you all for being so kind to my feelings :) I hope to get another chapter up in the next week, but I'm sure people all know how that goes. Writing takes a lot of time for me :P
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for reading and leaving kind messages.
> 
> xx


	7. Seven.

Why?  There were a lot of whys.  Why was Niall acting so strangely?  Why was Niall even horrid in the first place?  Why was I allowing myself to be so effected by his torture?  Why, why, why?  But most of all, why was I letting Niall in?

 

I didn’t understand it.  Niall was being genuinely nice to me.  I should have been grateful for this break.  I shouldn’t have questioned it.  Yet still, even as we had a normal conversation - even as we actually joked around a bit - some of me still felt uneasy around him.

 

“You do this one,” Niall said, handing me a domino.  We’d been setting these up for at least twenty minutes, per say our map.  The problem was that we’d - well,  _I’d_ \- repeatedly knock them over.

 

“I’m going to ruin it again,” I said, pushing the piece back into his hand.  “You’ve already done it well up to this point.”

 

“Your turn,” Niall laughed.

 

I pouted but took the domino from him anyway.  I bit my lip in concentration as I put the domino down in line next to the others.  My hand shook a bit, and the piece wavered as I let it go, but didn’t otherwise fall.  The biggest smile lit up my face, and I clapped my hands together.

 

“First time I haven’t knocked them over!” I cheered for myself.

 

“Good job,” Niall chuckled.

 

Quite honestly, if I didn’t know what Niall was capable of, and he hadn’t abused me since I’d met him - I’d have thought that Niall and I were genuine friends.  See?  This is the kind of thing I was doing - I was opening up to a boy who hurt me, physically and emotionally.  This was the boy that had driven me to start harming myself.  But I was letting him in.

 

“You do the rest, I’m no good at it,” I told him, pushing the pile of dominoes toward him.

 

He rolled his eyes.  “Fine.”

 

I went to move so he could reach around me to put the piece down, but I wasn’t quick enough.  He reached over my lap, causing me to stiffen and go numb.  Niall looked up at me as he placed the piece next to the others.  I only stiffened more when his arm brushed my leg as the piece was adjusted.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

I shook my head quickly.  “Nothing,” I mumbled, looking away.

 

“Okay,” he said hesitantly.

 

The only physical touch that Niall had ever given me was pain.  Whether it was his nails, his feet, his hands - it was alway to inflict pain.  That’s what I was expecting at this encounter.  But pain didn’t come.  It was a light touch, one that would’ve sent butterflies to my stomach - if Niall didn’t make me uneasy, that is.  Instead, I was just numb.  I didn’t really know what to do.

 

“You’re sure you’re alright?” he asked, drawing his hand back and brushing against my leg again.

 

“Y-yeah,” I stammered, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear and averting my eyes.  “Fine.”

 

He eyed me oddly for a second before sitting up straight again. He then glanced at the map we’d made, hopping up after a few seconds.

 

“I’ll go get the bucket of balls - that’s what’s next, right?”

 

I shrugged.  He smiled and left the room in a rush.  I studied the pattern of the dominoes then, not in any particular order.  Quite random and sporadic, actually.   _Like Niall’s behavior_.

 

I sighed at my own thoughts.  What was I doing?  From what I’d seen of Niall, this nice front was only put up when we were here alone.  At school, nothing even close to this came up.

 

Was that what it was?  With people around, Niall wanted to feel superior to me?  And when we were alone, there was no pressure one him?  Is that why I’ve been tortured for this long?  An image thing?  I didn’t have time to give it any more consideration before Niall walked back in his room.

 

“Catch,” he said, tossing a small ball at me.

 

“I can’t-” I tried to say, but the ball was already coming toward me.  I threw my arms up in defense, and the ball bounced off of them - landing straight on the dominoes.

 

They flew in all directions, knocking each other over and destroying what we’d set up for twenty minutes straight.  We both scrambled, trying to catch them as they fell - to little avail.  They all toppled over, leaving Niall and I with our arms outstretched futilely.  I sighed heavy.

 

“I can’t catch,” I mumbled.

 

Niall’s sudden burst of laughter made me jump.  I looked at him, confused as to how this was so funny.  We’d spent so much time setting it up, and it’d only taken five seconds of my handiwork to knock it all down.

 

But as Niall continued, I found his laugh to be quite contagious.  At first it was a small laugh, but then I began to laugh as hard as him.  I didn’t know why it was so funny.  Maybe it was the fact that we were laughing at my clumsiness, but then turned to laughing at our own laughs, which made us laugh even harder.

 

Eventually, we’d collected ourselves enough to start setting the dominoes back up.  We did so in silence, sharing quick glances every once in a while.  And soon, no thanks to my clumsiness, we were ready to start with the next piece of the project.

 

 

\---

 

 

“It’s a shame we had to tear it down,” Niall said, opening the front door while I put on my shoes.

 

“Yeah,” I laughed, reaching down to speed up the process a bit.  I scrunched my nose as my foot squeezed into my pair of TOMS.  “We’ll have time for it tomorrow.”

 

Niall nodded, and I began to walk out the door.  But a hand on my wrist stopped me.  I whirled around to find Niall looking at me, hand loose around my wrist.  That numb feeling went through me again, but this time I wasn’t so afraid.  The entire evening had been spent goofing off, with no sign of Niall’s…  Other side.  I was confident that episodes like what we had during school wouldn’t happen here, especially with Maura in the next room over.  It was Niall’s other side that I was wary of.

 

“Samm,” he said, his hand still wrapped around my wrist.  “We’re… Friends, right?”

 

The question took me completely by surprise.  How was I supposed to answer that?   _Well, you’ve tortured me so much that I need to fight for control of my life, but other than that I’m warming up to one side of you._   No.  I wasn’t just going to  _say_  that!  I mean, what if I set off his… Horrible side?  He had a hold of me, and I wasn’t about to make him angry.  But…  I didn’t know if I was exactly  _lying_.

 

“Erm,” I said, brushing a stray lock of my hair away from my face.  “Yeah.  Yeah, we are.”

 

I let out a silent breath of relief as he smiled.  He squeezed my wrist lightly, then let my hand drop.  I send back a hesitant smile, unsure of what I’d really just said.

 

“Same thing tomorrow, right?” Niall asked, his hand finding the door.

 

I nodded.  “Yeah.”

 

He paused for a second, watching my face.  “See you tomorrow, then.  In physics.”

 

My chest tightened at the thought of him during the school day.  I bit my lip subtly, trying to tell myself that it was only one more day before I had the weekend to recuperate.  One weekend, then straight back into the same cycle.

 

“Yeah,” I said, my voice sounding a bit strained.  I cursed myself silently.  “See you then.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for dropping kudos, it means a lot! Chapters will keep making their way up about every week, I hope! Please let me know what you think. Xx


	8. Chapter Eight.

My heart leapt in my chest as the bell ending seventh period sounded out.  I’d have to deal with Niall.  Really, there was no telling how he’d act.  I hoped that he’d at least be somewhat different, but that was just wishful thinking.

 

I tried to delay my entry as much as possible without being late, but I only succeeded in making myself more anxious.  My lip was taken between my teeth as I entered the classroom, clutching me notebook and pencil tightly.  I wasn’t exactly ready for the bad side of Niall.  I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night because of the homework I had to do for history and math.  Though I was generally smart, I’d had a bit of trouble focusing.  I was sure I’d forgotten something, but I didn’t know what.

 

I sat down at our table, stiffening as Niall glanced at me.  Placing my notebook on the cold table’s surface, I looked at Niall through my peripherals.  Finding his eyes trained on me, I didn’t know what to do.  They didn’t show the hatred usually given to me, but they also didn’t show the joking tint from the night before.  In some ways I froze.  In other ways, I wished I would’ve just frozen.  I smiled at him.

 

All I got from him was a huff out of his nose, then a drawing together of his features as Mrs. Dillard walked into the room.  I let some of my hair fall from its tucked-behind-the-ear position, giving my face some cover as a mixture of emotions went through me.  There were too many emotions to count, too many to name.  So I settled for just suppressing them.

 

“Alright, kiddos,” Mrs. Dillard said, clapping her hands together with her usual cheer.  “I assume you all got your reading done that I assigned via the school’s blog?  We’ll do the worksheets in class today.”

 

My chest tightened in that way it did when I forgot to do something, a school assignment in particular - I didn’t get it often.  Though it wasn’t too big of a deal, I hated not completing homework.  It just had an odd feeling to it.  But I stiffened a bit anyway.

 

Niall scoffed beside me, obviously taking notice in my changed posture.  “Didn’t do it, I take it?”

 

I chewed the inside of my cheek for a second, then turned my head to look at him.  “No,” I said, trying to keep my voice unwavering.  Talking to him had always done that to me.  I was always afraid that something would go wrong - that I would say or do something he didn’t like, then show his bad side an hurt me.  More often than not, I got his bad side.

 

Niall huffed a hostile laugh.  “You’re going to have trouble with the lesson, then.”

 

I bit my lip and nodded.  “I know.”

 

But I wasn’t too worried.  Physics had always been easy for me.  I knew kinetic and potential energy, I could apply different types of simple machines, and somehow, I could figure out complicated things in a small amount of time.  I assumed the reading was relatively simple, since we were only doing a worksheet today, so I’d have it down in no time.  At least, that what I thought.

 

As soon as I had the worksheet in my hand, I knew I was in trouble.

 

“Alright, now,” Mrs. Dillard said, returning to her desk.  “You’re allowed to work with your table partners on this sheet, but other than that I should be pretty quiet.  Go for it.”

 

And with that, the class erupted in murmurs.  Niall and I sat there for a second, an awkward silence hanging between us.  I was almost sure that he’d make me work on this alone.  But to my surprise, he read out the first problem.

 

“From the data listed, you can see that the eccentricity of the orbit is nearly zero; this means the orbit is almost perfectly circular. You can also see that the semi-major axis of the orbit is about 6730 km. Using this information, determine the speed of the space station along its path of travel. Look up the value of any constants you need such as the mass of the Earth. Your work should show the derivation of relevant formulae starting from Newton's Laws of Motion and Universal Gravitation in conjunction with the equation for centripetal acceleration.”

 

Yep, I was screwed.

 

“Er-” I said, brushing back a stray lock of my hair.  “What was that?”

 

And to my complete and  _utter_  surprise - Niall laughed.  Niall actually  _laughed_.  Just like he had last night, when we were goofing around like two good friends.  Just like he hadn’t put me through almost unbearable torture.  Just like I’d told him - like we were friends.

 

The look on my face must have betrayed me, because as soon as Niall’s eyes hit my face, his laugh was gone.  And just like that, his look was back.  Not hostile, yet not the welcoming gaze I’d witnessed the night before.  Neutral.  It was neutral.

 

He read the problem again, but I still had no idea what the subject matter was.  We must’ve started a new chapter in the textbook, and I always kept my book at home just in case.  Bad move, I guess.

 

The remainder of the class was filled with my frustration and Niall trying to explain the chapter.  I was completely surprised at his willingness to help, along with patience - the situation was usually reversed.  I was supposed to be the tutor, but now I was the learner.  Niall’s abuse wasn’t in the picture at all, and I began to grow more comfortable.  By the end of the class period, I was already half as comfortable with him as I’d been last night.  He was being a courteous boy.

 

“So there you have it,” he said, sliding his worksheet into his notebook.  “Physics in a nutshell.”

 

I chuckled a bit.  “Yeah.  I should’ve check the internet, this wasn’t supposed to happen.  I guess I’ll learn from this and check every day from now on.”

 

His previous grin faltered for a second, but was turned back up in an instant.  “Being the tutor is fun.  The learner?  Not so much.”

 

I bit my lip.  Was he talking about  _our_  tutoring arrangement?  Was that why he was so mean?  Maybe it wasn’t for a position on the social ladder, but because being the student was no fun.  Maybe he wanted to make me feel small because having a tutor made him feel dumb?  I’d sure felt dumb today.

 

I blinked, then subtly shook my head.  “No, it’s not fun.”

 

Then, out of nowhere, Keaton - one of Niall’s friends, though not too close with him - walked up to stand beside Niall.

 

“Hey, bro,” he said, playfully nudging him on the shoulder.

 

I flinched unintentionally, knowing that if I’d done something like that...  I didn’t even want to talk about it.

 

“You coming tonight?” Keaton asked Niall, completely ignoring me.  By now I was used to it, though, so I wasn’t offended.  I just began to fiddle with the edge of my notebook.

 

“I don’t know,” Niall answered him, scratching his arm.  “Samm and I have to work on this physics project.  And I don’t know if I can handle another one of your parties.”

 

My interest peaked at the mention of my name in a sentence other than an insult.  Though I still played with my notebook, I was listening.

 

“C’mon, man,” Keaton said.  “It’s Friday.  Loosen up a bit, we have the rest of the  _semester_  to do that piece of crap.”

 

“I guess I could come,” Niall said, his fingers drumming subtly on the tabletop.  I heard him shift in his chair, then suddenly I was being brought into the conversation.  “Want to come, Samm?”

 

Keaton looked about as shocked as I was.  “W-what?” I asked. furrowing my eyebrow as I lifted my head.  Why in the world would Niall ask if I’d come to one of his friend’s parties?  His friends only knew what he’d to them of me, and I assumed that my reputation with them wasn’t too good.  Keaton wouldn’t let me come anyway.

 

“You know,” Niall said, leaning his elbows on the table.  “My ‘plus one’.  That’s alright, isn’t it, Keaton?”

 

Keaton and I shared a rather awkward glance before he turned back to Niall.  “Uhm, I guess if you want - I mean, if she wants.”

 

I just looked at both of them, completely dumbfounded.  Niall, for acting  _completely_ out of character, and Keaton for actually going along with it.  Honestly, I’d rather have been told to my face that I wasn’t wanted than be lied to.  I realized after about five seconds that I hadn’t said anything.

 

“Erm - I guess - I mean - it’s up to you,” I stuttered, watching Niall’s and Keaton’s reactions.  I had the feeling that if I said no to Niall, it’d end badly.  But on the other hand…  I hadn’t been invited, and I didn’t want to intrude on anything - let alone earn more insults from Niall’s and Keaton’s friends.

 

“Alright, it’s settled then,” Niall said, giving a small smile.  He turned back to Keaton.  “We’ll be there around eight.”

 

Keaton gave a small side-smile, then nodded in my direction and walked away.  I was still in shock, seeing as I’d actually been  _asked_  to come to a party that wasn’t for my own self-pity.  I was even more shocked that Niall was being decent to me  _during_  school.  This had definitely never happened before, and I feared that I was imagining it all, and that I’d wake up from a dream at any moment.  But I didn’t.

 

“Ever been to one of Keaton’s parties before?” Niall asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

 

I thought that the answer was obvious.  But then again, Niall always acted oblivious to the fact that he’d tortured me when he was acting this way.  In some ways it infuriated me that he didn’t understand what I’d been through because of him, and in some ways it helped me almost forget it ever happened.  The problem was that I didn’t know if I wanted to forget or not.

 

“No,” I said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear.  For now, I’d just have to keep up my guard.  Niall was unpredictable.

 

“Well,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.  “Just keep in mind that you’ll probably never wear the same outfit again.”  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep leaving comments, I love feedback! Thank you all for the kudos, it means so much x
> 
> Next chapter up in about a week!


	9. Nine.

What did girls even  _wear_  to a party?  The questions was dumb - only  _I_  didn’t know what to wear.  I felt pathetic.  And I felt even more pathetic when I Google searched ‘party outfits’.  I came up with ball gowns, fancy dresses, women and girls with barely any clothes on their bodies.  But I did find an example that I liked the most.

 

I didn’t have the exact outfit, but I had something similar.  I got up from my bed and dug through my closet, then found what I was [looking for](http://\(http//www.polyvore.com/fix_you_chappy/set?id=77192998).  A floral tube top, stopping just above my navel, along with high-waisted black shorts, studded at the sides and ending shorter than I was used to.  I decided on black TOMS instead of the black heels I’d found, then dashed a bit of eye makeup on, along with a light lip gloss.  There wasn’t much I could do with my hair, so I simply pulled my bangs back with a bobby pin and called it good.

 

I didn’t know why I even owned these clothes.  I guess my mum just had this idea that I was friends with everyone.  She thought that I went to parties while they were gone, as did my father.  Why they didn’t care, I had no idea.  Weren’t parents supposed to care if their child was drinking under the age?  But in contrast to their belief, I neither had friends nor went to parties.  But given that they weren’t here ninety-nine percent of the time…  I was a devout introvert, because just my presence was an inconvenience for everyone.  It was about seven thirty when I was finally ready, then headed down to grab a snack before Niall came.

 

Niall had said he’d pick me up tonight, and I was weary to be in a confined space with an unstable person.  Though, Niall had been kind today.  He didn’t abuse me, didn’t put me down with his words.  He’d even asked me to come to one of Keaton’s parties.  And from the conversations I’ve heard in the hallways, Keaton’s parties were usually anything but tame.

 

But Niall was acting different.  Was all he needed just some time alone with me?  Was that all it took to make him see that I’m not his enemy, nor his punching bag?  After about ten minutes of internal debate, I decided I’d give him the benefit of the doubt.  Niall was changing.

 

I grabbed a quick bite of toast, then took my phone in my hand.  It wasn’t much to eat, but I figured that I’d have something to eat at Keaton’s.  I wouldn’t get drunk, I told myself.  Niall would probably have that covered, and I didn’t feel comfortable riding home both intoxicated  _and_  being driven by an intoxicated person.

 

Soon, there was a knock at the door.  I sighed, my heart leaping a bit.  I walked down the main hallway, but stopped just short of the door as the wall mirror caught my eye.  There were bruises in the shape of fingertips dotting my thigh - from when Niall had hurt me.  I winced, remembering the incident.  I turned my forearm up, and sure enough, the fading scabs were there as well.  I hadn’t remembered to cover them up, and I didn’t have the time to anymore.  Another knock at the door made me jump, and I quickly opened it.

 

Niall was dressed in a red polo with tan shorts, ending just below his knees.  His  hair was combed to cover his forehead, per usual.  He wore a smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  I couldn’t help but smile back, despite the previous view of the marks made by him.

 

“Ready?” he asked.  His eyes traveled up and down my body, and I leaned against the doorframe, a bit embarrassed.  Did I look okay?

 

I nodded.  “Yeah.”

 

He then nodded back and started walking back to his car.  I followed, making sure to lock the door as I left.  I hid the key under the flower pot by the door, as my mum and dad always instructed, then walked the rest of the way to the curb and opened the passenger’s side door.

 

Niall started the car as I slid in, the radio beginning to play a soft Michael Buble  song.  He quickly turned it off, then threw the car in gear and pulled down the street.

 

“You listen to Michael Buble?” I asked.  Honestly, I was more open with him when we were alone, rather than with other people.  He was tolerable when we were alone.

 

He nodded.  “He’s my favorite artist.”

 

I smiled, tapping the armrest.  “Why did you turn it off, then?”

 

Niall rounded the corner and gave a side smile.  “Didn’t think you liked him as well.”

 

I nodded.  “I do.”

 

He flicked the radio back on.  “Then we’ll listen.”

 

I watched out the window as the many houses went by, listening as the radio went on.  It was a lovely song.  The lack of talking in the car was nice.  I didn’t have to think of the right thing to say, didn’t have to figure out ways to  _not_  set him off.  I only listened to the comforting radio in the background.

 

“You look good, by the way,” Niall said about five minutes later.

 

Something in my chest tightened, but it wasn’t such a bad feeling.  There was warmth throughout me as well.  The comment flattered me.  And the most interesting thing was that…  Maybe I liked the feeling.

 

“Thanks,” I said shyly, turning my head to look out the window and hide the blush that crept across my cheeks.

 

It was quiet until I heard the pounding bass from a block away.

 

“That’s Keaton’s,” Niall said, turning down the street.  The lights from Keaton’s garage and house lit up the otherwise dark street, and there were already people stumbling around in his front yard, drinks in hand.

 

“I didn’t think that people would be drunk this early,” I said, rubbing my left temple.

 

“Believe me, they’re not,” Niall snorts.  “Some of the guys are, but most of the girls are just acting.”  I sighed.  “What?” he asked, pulling up behind a car parked about fifty feet away from the house and turning toward me.

 

“I don’t know,” I said, looking down at my hands in my lap.  “I’ve just never been to one of these before.”

 

“You’ll be fine,” he chuckled, unclasping his seatbelt.  “Just don’t take a drink from anyone but the bottle itself.”

 

This did nothing to calm my nerves, but I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out of the car anyway.  Shouts and cheers reached my ears when I shut the car door, and I bit my lip as I tucked my phone into my back pocket and fell into step alongside Niall.  His shoulder brushed mine a few times as we walked up, and I was very conscious of his movements.  Though I was comfortable with speaking and interacting with him, the physical contact still brought up weariness inside of me.

 

“What’s your number?” he suddenly asked, taking my wrist lightly and stopping me.  “You know, just in case we get separated at all.”

 

I hadn’t though of what I’d even do at this party.  I mean, what was I  _supposed_ to do?  I had no friends to talk to, no place to go, nothing to do.  What had I expected to do?  Agreeing to come was a bad idea on my part.  But was Niall implying that we’d stay together the whole night?

 

“Oh,” I said.  I relayed my number to him, and watched as he typed in my contact name.  He entered something else into his phone, and my own vibrated in my pocket.

 

“I’ve just sent you a text,” he said, starting to walk again.  “That way you’ll have my number as well.”

 

I nodded, following suit.  I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about him having my number.  It gave me a weird feeling, something I’d never witnessed before.  I couldn’t describe it.

 

“Niall!” one of the girls shouted as we started walking up the drive.  “Niall, how’ve you been?” she said more sweetly, drink in hand as she swayed up to him.  She pulled him into an awkward hug, holding her drink out so none spilled on him while he kind of just stood there.  Her gesture annoyed me for some unknown reason.

 

“Camry,” he said, stepping out of her embrace.  “I’ve been alright.”

 

She frowned, but only for an instant.  Her clumsy smile was back on in an instant, and she swayed to the beat of the music.  “Dance with me,” she said happily, tugging on his hand.

 

I bit the inside of my cheek, feeling awkward.  Camry was acting as if she and Niall were the only two there, ignoring me.  I was used to this kind of treatment, but this instance made me a bit upset.  For what reason, I didn’t know why.

 

“No thanks,” Niall said to my surprise.  Why wouldn’t he have danced with such a lovely girl?

 

He turned, resting a hand on the small of my back and gently pushing me along with him.  His fingers brushed my exposed skin, and I stifled a shiver that crept up my spine.  Why was I responding this way?  I never had before.

 

Niall lead me inside, where the music was the loudest.  The lights were turned down and there was a strobe light going, making me feel a bit disoriented.  A hoard of people danced in the living room, and several girls danced against eager boys.

 

“You want something to drink?” Niall shouted above the music, taking his hand away.

 

“I thought you told me not to take a drink from anyone,” I shouted back, laughing a bit.

 

He smiled and nodded.  “I did.  Sorry.”  Niall lead me over to the counter and poured himself a cup.  “Guess that’s a no, then?”

 

I nodded.

 

“Hey, Nialler,” Keaton slurred, suddenly appearing beside Niall.  How he’d managed to get drunk in this amount of time, I didn’t know.

 

“Hey,” Niall replied, punching him playfully.  “A little tipsy, are we?”

 

“Naahhh,” he drawled out, taking another sip of his drink.  “Hey, listen.  I gotta show you something.”

 

Niall nodded, setting his drink down on the counter.  “I’ll be right back,” he said in my direction.

 

I was about to protest, but Keaton had already dragged Niall away.  I bit my lip, standing there awkwardly.  I crossed my arms in front of my stomach and leaned up against the kitchen counter.  Not knowing what to do, I just watched the pulsating bodies dancing in the flashing lights.

 

He said he’d be right back, right?

 

 

\---

 

 

It’d been at least two hours, and Niall still hadn’t come back.

 

I’d moved from the kitchen counter to pretty much just leaning against a wall, arms crossed with my hair thrown over my shoulder.  No one had bothered talking to me yet, as if they would anyway.  Niall was the only one who wanted me to come.

 

_Niall wanted me to come._

 

The realization made me feel weird.  It was that feeling again, in my chest and stomach, something I’d never felt before.  Niall had wanted me to come here, actually wanted to be with me.  But he wasn’t exactly  _here_  at the moment.

 

“Hey, I know you,” a girl slurred, walking up to me.  “You’re Samm Carter, the girl from my history class that doesn’t talk.”

 

Well, that was blunt.  I suddenly got a bit defensive, but didn’t let it show.  Instead, I nodded.  “Yeah, that’s me.”

 

“What are you doing here?” she said, cocking her head to the side and raising a clumsy eyebrow.

 

I shrugged.  “I don’t know, honestly.”

 

She giggled and hiccuped.  “Well, you look great!  I’m Mia, by the way.”  She suddenly reached out and took a hold of my arm.  A sharp intake of breathe reached my lips as she turned it over, revealing Niall’s nail marks.

 

“Erm,” I said, tugging my hand away and holding it behind my back.

 

She gave me a look of pity.  “Here,” Mia said, holding out her cup.  “Takes the pain away.  Takes  _everything_  away.”

 

I hesitated.  I didn’t want to get drunk at the same time as being driven home by a drunk person.  But her argument was persuasive to my ears.   _Takes the pain away_.  I’d been feeling a lot of emotional stress lately, due to Niall’s mood swings and everything.  I just wanted to forget about it for a minute.

 

Against my better judgement, I took the drink from Mia.  She smiled.  “You’ll enjoy the party  _much_  more.”

 

And with that, she danced away with a cheer of excitement.  I stared down at the brown liquid in the cup, wondering what was in it.  Niall had said not to take a drink from anyone, but then again - Niall had said a lot of things.  If this took the pain away, I was open for it.

 

I checked the clock on the wall.  It was only ten thirty, but it felt so much later.  Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I checked to see if I’d received any messages.  Just like always, I hadn’t.  Not from Niall, not from my parents, not from anyone.  No one gave a damn about me.

 

_It takes the pain away_.   _It takes everything away_.

 

I took another look at the cup in my hand, then tipped it back, dealing with the sting on the way down.

 

 

\---

 

 

_What in God’s name is going on?  Why is it so hot in here?  Why can’t I see anything?  Who’s touching me?_

 

It was coming in blurs to me.  The whole night flashed by, ten thirty to eleven, eleven to one.  That girl, whatever her name was, had been right.  It did take the pain away.

 

I sniffed, opening my eyes.  As soon as I did, I flinched.  There was a guy plastered to my face, kissing me.   _What?_   His hands were on my exposed stomach, the music still pounding in the background.  My back was pressed up against the wall, and my arms were straight at my sides.

 

This guy was  _kissing_  me.  His hand moved up farther, to the fabric of my top, just to the side of my chest area.  I stiffened, but didn’t succeed in getting him to move.  I suddenly felt claustrophobic.  Despite my intoxicated and blurry state, I was aware enough to know that I wanted him off, and I wanted him off now.

 

I pushed hard against his chest, but he didn’t move.  The guy only ground his hips into mine, pressing me further up the wall.  I turned my head to the side, trying to escape his kiss, but instead his lips moved down my neck.  I pushed against his chest a bit harder, but to no avail.  I let out a grunt of frustration.  Why was he touching  _me?_

 

I was getting flustered.  I’d definitely had too much to drink, and felt like I’d pass out.  The music was starting to hurt my head, and the flashing lights did nothing to help.  It was hot in the house and was getting hard to breathe.  I needed to get out of here, now.

 

But before I had any more time to do something about it, the guy was already being torn from me.  His touch thankfully went away, and I closed my eyes as the heels of my feet hit the floor again.  Thank God.

 

But as soon as I opened my eyes, I saw Niall’s angry expression.  He was yelling at the guy who’d been kissing at me.   _But why would he do that?_   The guy’s expression also got angry, and I got even more confused.  The room was getting even hotter, and I didn’t think I could stay conscious for much longer.  The drinks were really starting to effect me.

 

I couldn’t make out what they were saying.  The edges of my vision were turning black, and my breaths were coming slower.  My head began to pound as Niall flipped the guy off and came over to me.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, putting a soft hand on my shoulder.  I tried to nod, but that took too much energy.  Instead, I collapsed into his arms, not really aware enough to worry about what that might entice.

 

My world went black a second later.


	10. Ten.

I woke up with a pounding head and a warm stomach.

 

I groaned, my headache growing worse as I tried to open my eyes.  Why did my head hurt so badly?  What was going on?  I searched my memory for an answer, but couldn’t find one.  Not until I recognized the stale taste of alcohol in my mouth.

 

Last night came back to me, though I didn’t remember most of it.  But I remembered Niall going off with Keaton, leaving me alone.  I remembered waiting for hours, doing nothing.  I remembered the girl who’d given me the drink, but not her name.  I remembered dancing a bit, then it all disappeared until the guy kissed me.

 

I bit my lip.  He’d kissed me.  My first kiss, and I didn’t even know the guy’s name, let alone remember his face.  I remembered how I’d wanted him off, how I’d been about to pass out.  And I remembered Niall, pulling him off of me - his angry expression while talking to the guy, then coming over to ask if I was okay.  _Why had he done that?_

 

I reached up to rub my eyes, then to pull down my shorts that had ridden up in the back.  But there was something blocking my way - a comforter.  Though it was weird, I never slept with a duvet.  Only a thin blanket decorated my mattress, so I knew that I wasn’t in my own bed.  The thought woke me up right away.

 

My eyes shot open despite the pounding in my head, and I looked down at myself.  My hair was in tangles, my shirt was pushed up to my bra line, and there was a pair of arms around my middle.  The realization that my clothes were still on comforted me a small bit, but the fact that I wasn’t waking up in my own bed scared me.  I followed the arm up to the shoulder, then the person’s face - 

 

“Niall,” I whispered, my breath hitching.  I was in _Niall’s_ bed.  I was in _Niall’s_ room.  I was in _Niall’s_ house.  I was in _Niall’s_ arms.

 

My body went rigid and I flinched, stirring him a bit.  I panicked, not wanting him to wake up.  What would he say about this?  He’d never wanted anything to do with me before.  He’d told me I was horrid, disgusting even.  What would he do if he found us like this?

 

I tried to gently pry his arms from around me, but only succeeded in jarring him.  I cursed as he stirred, then laid back as still as I could.  If he thought I was asleep, maybe he wouldn’t be as angry.  After all, it was _his_ arms around _me_.

 

But what surprised me even more was that Niall - still very much asleep - drew me closer.  His chest pressed up against my back, his arms growing tighter around my middle.  I winced.  Contact like this with Niall was terribly uncomfortable and foreign.  But the odd thing was that I was getting used to it.  Though the bruises on my leg and forearm were still fairly new, I was expecting less and less to be hurt by Niall.  I was getting more comfortable with him.  But that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

 

Which is why this kind of interaction was awkward and unwanted.  I bit my lip and tried to ignore my pounding head as I slowly reached for Niall’s clasped hands again.  My fingers closed around one of his wrists and pulled gently, but he didn’t move.  I cursed under my breath, then tried again.  This time, Niall started to stir.

 

My body went rigid and I moved my hand away as quickly and carefully as I could manage.  My eyes shut tight as he took in a long breath through his nose.  Niall’s body shifted abruptly, lodging one of his legs in between mine.  The soft fabric of his pants rubbed lightly against my bare legs, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out in frustration.

 

I suddenly felt his forehead land against the back of my neck, and I stiffened my already solid form.  This was completely foreign, and I didn’t like it at all.  What if he actually did wake up and find us like this, with me awake?  What would he say?  What would he do?  I had to focus on getting out of his arms.  But one thought briefly held my attention.

 

I’d never been in a boy’s arms before.  I’d never hugged a boy, never kissed a boy - well, not until last night - never been in a relationship.  I now understood how good it felt to feel wanted.  Niall _wanted_ me to come last night.  Niall _wanted_ that boy off of me.  Niall _wanted_ me close to him - well…  That part was subconscious.

 

I soon shook my head.  I couldn’t afford to think these thoughts.  Though the feeling was nice, this was _Niall_ , the boy who’d tortured me for as long as I could remember.  He was unpredictable and dangerous.  I had to find a way to distance myself.  But there was one problem - we had tutoring, along with the physics project.  And also…  Niall made it so hard _not_ to want to be around him, at least while he was being a decent person.

 

All of the thoughts running through my head distracted me from Niall’s movement.  It wasn’t until he yawned next to my ear that I realized I’d been twitching nervously, bound to wake him up.  His leg was still between mine as his arms loosened a bit from around my middle.  There was nothing I could do now.  He was waking, and I was vulnerable to whatever kind of beatings and insults he had in his head.  So I did what I thought any person in my position would do.  I acted as if I were still asleep.

 

I shut my eyes tightly, my eyelids fluttering slightly in an imaginary dream.   My body relaxed into Niall’s warm arms, and I slowed down my breathing.  My fists unclasped and I just waited for Niall to wake up all the way.  Much to my dismay, that came sooner than I’d thought.

 

He grumbled a bit before removing his legs from in between mine, then extended them down next to me.  I kept my eyes shut as I felt his arms loosen even more.  My spirits lifted as I felt his forehead withdraw from resting in my neck, but it was short lived.  Niall didn’t pull away any more than that.  I was sure that he’d opened his eyes by now and realized what he was doing, but…  He didn’t pull away.

 

My head pounded in time with my heart - painfully fast.  My breathing became heavier and I started to worry if Niall knew I was awake.  Suddenly, lying still wasn’t something I could do just then.  I had to move.  Maybe I’d just play it off as moving in my sleep?  But I couldn’t just lay there.  He’d figure out that I was awake.  So I moved.

 

I sucked a breath in through my nose just as Niall had done as he woke.  My previously limp arms reached up as I rolled partially over, curling into a fetal position in the process.  I expected Niall’s arms to release me as he realized I was ‘waking up’ - but they didn’t.  A large section of my hair fell over my face, tickling my nose uncomfortably.  I couldn’t blow it out of the way, and not being able to do anything about it was killing me.

 

Suddenly, Niall’s arm that rested below my body was carefully tugged out of place, leaving goosebumps on my exposed skin in its wake - I was still in the tube top from last night.  I almost let out a sigh of relief as it retreated, though, and my heart slowed the smallest bit.

 

I nearly jumped out of my own skin as I felt fingertips brush against my bare shoulder.  My eyes squeezed shut tighter as the touch trailed up, brushing my uncovered ear.  Then, I felt my hair slowly being pulled back from my face.  I was still immensely aware of his other hand still on my bare stomach as my hair was tucked behind my ear.  It was all I could do not to stop breathing.

 

Niall wasn’t hurting me.  He hadn’t woken me up to insult me.  He’d protected me the night before, and he’d brought me into his home.  Why?  I had no idea.  And now this…  It was overwhelming.  Too many things were happening for my pounding head to handle.  Too many things were happening for my pounding _heart_ to handle.

 

It was all I could do not to flinch when a gentle fingertip brushed over my cheek and traced down my jawline.  I felt awkward, lying there while he thought I was asleep.  But shouldn’t _he_ feel awkward for even _doing_ this?  I mean, he’d abused me and called me names for the longest time.  And now, all the sudden - over a period of four days - he’d changed from my bully to my protecter, my…  I didn’t even know _what_ to call this.  I stifled a shiver that ran up my spine as he withdrew his hand.

 

And then he was gone.  The weight behind me on the bed left, as did all touch from him.  I heard the floor creak subtly as he traveled from the bed to what I assumed was the door, because I heard a hinge opening and closing.  Muffle by the door, I heard stairs creaking, then feet padding almost inaudibly on the kitchen floor below.

 

My eyes shot open and I sat up straight, trying to figure out just where I was.  I spotted a Michael Buble poster on the far wall, a bookshelf across the room, a guitar on its stand over there, the bed right here.  I was in Niall’s room.

 

The duvet restricted my movement as I tried to shift off the bed, so I tossed it back and swiveled my feet to the floor.  My shorts had definitely hiked up in the back, so I not-so-gracefully pulled them down.  Despite the heightened pounding in my head, I stumbled to the far wall, where a mirror I hadn’t noticed before stood.

 

I was a mess.

 

My eye makeup had blended down onto my lower eye, so my eyes looked five times smaller than normal.  My tube top had turned into a sort of bandeau, so I pulled it down to its original place.  My shoes weren’t on my feet, so I wiggled my small toes as I grimaced at myself.

 

I licked the ends of m thumbs and trailed them under my eyes, attempting to get off some of the makeup.  It worked, and I soon had clear lower eyes.  That’s when I started to address my hair.

 

It’d tangled every which way, per usual, except for the few difficult pieces in front that refused to do anything but lay flat.  Raking my fingers through it only proved painful, and I winced as I caught on another section of tangles.  After I’d smoothed the top layer down, I decided that it was good enough.

 

But good enough for what?  There was no one to look nice for, no one to fix myself for.  Niall didn’t care anyway.  I wasn’t making myself presentable for him…  Only for myself.  _Right_?

 

This time, I _did_ jump when I heard footsteps.

 

Panicking, I stumbled a bit, then dove back onto the bed and curled up just as I had been  I threw the duvet over my body, shutting my eyes tight just as the door opened gently.

 

I didn’t know why I was so weary about this.  Maybe it was the fact that I was in my abuser’s house.  Or maybe because of the disorientation that my pounding head was causing.  Or maybe…  Could it have been the preview touch I’d been receiving from Niall?

 

I pushed the thought to the back of my mind.  I didn’t have time to think about it before I heard the subtle clatter of a dish next to my head.  I stayed as still as I could manage, and heard the contact of fabric against carpet.  Then there were footsteps toward the door, followed by the closing of it.  I opened my eyes.

 

Sitting on the bedside table was a plate of eggs and sausage, along with a fork and a glass of water.  My eyes shifted to the floor, finding a pair of boxers and a polo.  I furrowed my eyebrows.  Niall had put these here?  For me?

 

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed again, finding the pounding in my head had somewhat subsided.  My gaze flickered over the the glass of water, and I picked it up and drank it.  It felt nice to have something in my system other than alcohol, or whatever that girl had put in that cup.

 

I still felt weary, but I picked up the plate of food anyway.  I ate slowly, trying to delay the time I’d have to head downstairs and face Niall.  As soon as I was finished, though, I turned my head to the pile of clothes on the floor.  They were obviously Niall’s.  And he’d laid them out for me?

 

I looked down at myself, tube top only covering half of my midsection, and shorts too short for comfort.  Then I looked back at the pile on the floor.  And internal battle happened inside of me before I finally decided that changing was a good idea, considering that my clothes still smelled of beer.

 

I left my top on and slipped the polo over it, then took my sticky shorts off and pulled on the boxers.  I watched in the mirror as the polo fell to just above my knees, and I tucked it into the waistband.  My gaze landed back on the mirror, and I grimaced.

 

I was wearing Niall’s clothes.  Niall wanted me to wear his clothes?  I shook my head.  He was just being nice.  But then again, when had he ever been nice?

 

The smell of sausage wafted into the room, breaking my thoughts.  I turned my head toward the door, but it was still closed.  It must’ve been coming from downstairs.  I sent a weary glance back in the mirror, then shuffled over to grab my plate and glass.  Slowly, I walked out of the door and down the hall, then down the stairs.

 

The sound of running water filtered into the living room, along with the rattle of dishes.  I soon figure out that I was shaking, making the fork clatter against the dish.  I stopped my nervous twitches, then grit my teeth and walked into the kitchen.

 

Niall’s back was to me, fumbling around with dishes at the sink.  My bare feet made little noise against the kitchen floor as I slowly made my way to the counter next to him.  He was humming quietly, some song that I didn’t recognize.  I bit my lip before setting my partially empty plate on the counter.

 

His head whipped over to me, surprise in his expression.  As soon as he recognized me, though, he turned back to the sink with a small smile.  I backed away subtly as Niall took the plate from the counter and shoveled what was left into the wastebasket.  He then placed it in the sink and dried his hands off, then turned to me.

 

“You were out cold last night,” he said, towel still in his hands.  “I couldn’t just leave you at Keaton’s, and you were no where close to being able to tell me where your house key is.”

 

I brushed my still ratty hair behind my ear.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know that the drink would be that strong.”

 

Niall chuckled.  “I understand.  Mum is gone for the weekend, but I’m sure she’d have welcomed you with open arms.  Plus, an unconscious girl and a few drunk lads couldn’t have ended well.”

 

My chest constricted at the mention of the situation I may have ended up in.  I’d been worried about Niall hurting me, while I should’ve been counting my blessings that Niall had been kind enough to bring me into his _home_.  In a way, Niall had saved me.  But that didn’t really explain what’d happened just before Niall headed downstairs.

 

“Thanks,” I said anyway, rubbing my arm and staring at the floor.  “That would’ve been bad.”

 

He smiled and walked over to the stove, flipping the burner off.  “Sorry about the clothes,” he said.  “My mum is quite the small woman, not much of anything fits on her.  I hope that you can live with mine.”

 

I looked down at myself, polo and boxers covering me.  “It’ll be fine,” I replied.

 

Niall nodded.  “So, since you’re here…  May as well continue on the project?”

 

I thought about asking him to take me home for a change of clothes.  But that may have been a bad idea, since I didn’t know what kind of mood Niall was in at the moment.  He could say anything.  Plus, I could last in his clothes.  It felt odd, but they were surprisingly comfy.

 

“Yeah, sure,” I nodded, crossing my arms.

 

He nodded again and dug something out from below the sink.  He ran the water for a second before turning back to me.  “Here,” Niall said, holding out a bottle filled with water.  “You’re going to need it.”  I furrowed my eyebrows at him, and he laughed.  “For the headache.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

“You’ve gone and done it again!” Niall laughed, nudging my side. But this time, I didn’t stiffen. Instead, I laughed with him.

 

“You know, it’d be a ton easier if we’d figure out how to make the rest of it first,” I said, scooping up the mess of dominoes I’d just knocked over - again.

 

“We have the whole day to figure this out,” he answered, glancing at the clock, which read one-thirty in the afternoon. “Let’s just experiment for now.”

 

I nodded, pushing the dominoes back over to him. “You set them up, you’re better at it.”

 

Niall chuckled, making me smile a bit. “Whatever you say.”

 

I watched him set up another row of dominoes, lining them up perfectly to fit into our next set of the project. This piece was a pulley system. The last domino in the row fell into a cup, which knocked it over and pulled on a piece of yarn attached to it. In the map we’d drawn, when the yarn lifted on the other end, it released a ball that rolled down an incline and into another pulley-type system. So far, the dominoes had been stumping us.

 

“There,” he said, placing the last piece. He pointed toward the cup. “It should work to fall into this without problem.”

 

I nodded. “Alright. Shall we try it?”

 

Niall laughed. “Well then I would’ve set it up for nothing.”

 

I brushed a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Well the point of this is trial and error, is it not?”

 

He shook his head and laughed. “That’s true, but I don’t want to take the time to set it up again.”

 

I playfully jutted out my lower lip. “And I don’t want to take the time to do this project - but the world just has a way of shoving inevitability in our faces.”

 

His smile dropped. “I suppose you’re right.”

 

His sudden seriousness surprised me. Niall only got serious right before he got angry. Had I done something wrong? I tried to read his expression, but I saw no sign of a coming anger that I knew too well.

 

I gave him a half smile before my gaze dropped to my hands that rested in my lap. We sat there for a minute, the quiet hum of the ventilation system sounding in the background. I felt weird just sitting there, wondering if I’d done something wrong. If I had, though, he sure wasn’t showing it.

 

“So,” he finally said, making me jump slightly. “How about that map?”

 

 

\---

 

 

After nearly three hours, we’d finally gotten about half way done. Though this was only an experimental run and we’d have to film the actual set-up, we’d agreed that we wanted to at least figure out how to build it. So - with several snack breaks and teasing in between - we only had the last half to go.

 

“So this goes here,” Niall mumbled, tying a string from the end of a pencil to a SOLO cup with a hole in it. “And this should work like that.”

 

He rolled a ball down the ramp and into the cup, making it fall over and bring the pencil with it. I smiled, nodding in approval as I picked the ball up, after it had rolled a bit away. Niall beamed as I set it back up, in the exact place he’d put it before.

 

“This is turning out great,” he said, gesturing to the contraption we’d made, running up the stairs and curving into Niall’s room. “We just have to remember how this all goes together.”

 

I shrugged. “We could take a picture of it.”

 

He snapped his fingers. “Brilliant one you are!” he laughed, quickly hopping to his feet and maneuvering around what we’d made to go up the stairs. 

 

Niall appeared out of his room a few seconds later, holding a digital camera. He smiled, full of pride, as he took pictures of each section of the model. As soon as he’d finished, he bounced down the stairs and tossed me the camera as he sat down next to me. “How are they?”

 

I pressed the ‘view photos’ button, bringing up the photos Niall had just taken. I looked at each one, making sure we’d gotten everything. When I’d reached the last one, I accidentally hit the ‘next’ button twice, and another picture came up.

 

This one depicted four people; Maura, a younger version of Niall, a boy a bit older than the Niall shown, and a man who looked a lot like the older boy. They all wore genuine smiles. The man beamed, his arm around Maura. Maura’s arms were slung around the older boy’s shoulders, and the man’s free hand was resting on Niall’s shoulder. In the background was a brick wall, like one you’d find on an old farm or house. This looked like a picture taken in a studio, though Maura’s hair looked a little wind-blown. But no matter where this picture was taken, it looked like this lot would be genuinely happy anywhere.

 

I was so dumbstruck that I didn’t hear Niall saying my name. It wasn’t until I felt his soft, warm touch on my arm that my head snapped up from the camera’s screen.

 

“Samm,” he said, looking at me with brilliantly blue eyes. I snuck another glance down at the picture. Yes, they were the same eyes. “Are you okay? How are the pictures?”

 

“They’re - They’re fine,” I stumbled over the words. I don’t know why I was so surprised. Maybe because this picture had opened me up to an even odder side of Niall? Maybe because I was so used to the darker side of Niall, I didn’t even recognize this happier, more welcoming side of him?

 

He gave me an odd look, then took the camera from my hands. I bit my lip as he inspected the screen. Something flashed across his eyes. I couldn’t read it well. But when he looked up, the vibrant blue that had been in his eyes was gone. It was a duller shade, more of a gray-blue. Within the gray-blue, there was a complicated mix of emotions I’d never seen from him before.

 

Without another word, Niall shot up from his sitting position. I jumped, the abrupt movement scaring me a bit. I watched him stride over what we’d built, and go around it as he nearly flew up the stairs.

 

“Niall,” I said, standing and trying to follow after him. If it’d been a day earlier, I wouldn’t have followed after him. I don’t know what I would’ve done in this situation a day before. But now, after I’d become comfortable with Niall, I really did consider him as my friend. I felt as if his current behavior was my fault - and in some ways, it was. Was I not supposed to have seen that picture? Did it have some significant meaning to him?

 

I tried to say his name again, but was cut off by his door closing. The sudden noise halted me, mid-stride walking up the stairs. I stood there for a long time, trying to understand what’d just happened. It all happened so fast, though - I hadn’t really had time to comprehend the situation. All I knew was that I’d seen the picture, Niall had seen it too, and now he was behind a closed door with me standing there like an idiot.

 

But I soon came back to awareness, and continued my trek up the stairs. As soon as I reached his door, I stopped to listen for a moment. All I heard was what sounded like heavy, frustrated breathing, along with footsteps. He was angry, and he was pacing. Nervousness flooded through me. Whenever Niall got angry, I got hurt.

 

I backed away from the door. Though I’d not seen the angry side of Niall in nearly three days, I was still fully aware and weary of it. It was usually I that made Niall angry, and whenever I did, I got the brunt of the impulse. Either a hard pinch, a pull of my hair, digging his nails into my skin, or maybe even a heavy shove.

 

But what also struck me as odd was that Niall hadn’t taken it out on me immediately, like what usually happened. Niall had left, moving himself away from me. That had never happened before. I’d always gotten the first of his anger, which happened to be the worst of it. But now… The look that Niall had given me - the mix of emotions. Could one of them have been empathy? Or maybe even… Compassion?

 

I shook my head, stepping back from his door further. No, that couldn’t be it. How could Niall go from condescending to compassionate it a matter of four days? He couldn’t. That was the issue. Niall couldn’t change that quickly - no one like him could.

 

But in the last four days, I’d witnessed so many sides of him, so much of Niall change. What was going on? Did he finally understand that targeting me wasn’t a good way to handle anger? Did he finally understand what he’d put me through? Did he finally understand that we could be friends?

 

I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was a dumb stroke of courage. But maybe it was something entirely different. All I knew that the person inside my body wasn’t the usual me. It was a better, more confident Samm.

 

I collected the few steps I’d lost, approaching Niall’s door. My hand reached out, gripping the nob in my steady hand. I turned it softly, and to my surprise it opened - Niall hadn’t locked himself in. I pushed the door open slowly, poking my head in the room once I’d gotten it far enough open. My eyes landed on him, his back to me with his head in his right hand, the other holding something within it.

 

I pushed the door further open, sliding my whole body through. Niall didn’t look up, and I assumed he hadn’t heard me yet. I approached quietly, now extremely more cautious of every move I was making. If I made the wrong move, I might get hurt - but that thought didn’t seem to bother me horribly. I only wanted to figure out what was wrong with Niall. What in the name of God was wrong with me?

 

I stepped closer, and the floor creaked, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I cursed to myself as Niall’s head whipped to the side, though he didn’t turn around. What had been in his hand fell to the bed. I noticed that it was the camera, still on the screen of the picture I’d seen.

 

“Samm,” he said, his voice scratchy and dry. “Now isn’t a good time.”

 

I should’ve been smart and taken his warning. But I didn’t. Instead, I took a step closer. “I’m sorry for whatever I did, Niall.”

 

I saw his jaw clench and unclench as I heard him draw in a long breath. “Please leave the room, Samm.”

 

I was being an idiot. I really was. I came even closer to him. My gut twisted, and all of me said to leave before I actually did get hurt. But I didn’t move away. “If you want to talk about it, I-”

 

“Samm,” he cut me off, fully turning around. I flinched hard, expecting a blow from him. This reaction seemed to upset him more. He huffed, turning back around and stalking over to his bedside table. He stood there, watching me as I took another step closer. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

 

I shook my head. “That’s not true, and you know it. Please, I want to help.”

 

“Don’t say that!” Niall suddenly shouted, his voice echoing throughout the room.

 

My body jolted in surprise. I cursed internally as I began to shake like the timid person I was. I shouldn’t have been afraid of Niall, not anymore. I knew that his nice, hospitable side was inside him somewhere. I gritted my teeth and chose to stand my ground, not leaving like he’d warned.

 

“I’m sick of everyone trying to help all the time!” Niall shouted again. This time, the only reaction I chose to show was a wince, out of reflex. “No one can help.”

 

I watched as his eyes changed from a gray-blue to a complete gray, full of sadness and anger. My chest tightened again and my palms began to sweat, expecting in the next few minutes to get hurt. I’d never pushed this far with Niall - in fact, I’d never pushed at all. This side of him was horribly scary. Suddenly, I wasn’t so courageous anymore. Suddenly, I wanted out.

 

“Just leave me alone!” he shouted, making me jump as his fists clenched. His brow creased in frustration and I took a hasty step back.

 

“Niall,” I said quietly, my gaze fixed on his deep, gray eyes. I didn’t want to help anymore, not if it meant getting hurt. I forgot what I wanted before. Suddenly, I didn’t want to be Niall’s friend anymore. I just wanted to be away from his abuse, away from his insults. “Please, calm down.”

 

“Go away, Samm!” he shouted, turning away abruptly and resting his arm on the wall above his head. “Please,” he said, more quietly. “I can’t right now. Not now.”

 

I don’t know why my eyes suddenly filled with tears. Maybe it was because I was weak, just like Niall said. Maybe it was because my confused emotions were too strong for me to handle. But maybe it was because I was disappointed - disappointed that the previous Niall still existed in him. He’d been so nice. I’d actually felt wanted in the past few hours. But now... This side of Niall was far from welcoming.

 

I needed to get away from him. Not only was he upset, but I also was. I needed time to sort everything out. So much had happened in the past four days, and though it only had been four days, it felt like so much longer. I’d bonded with Niall. I was now closer to him than I’d ever been to anyone else. And losing the good side of him to this other side was more painful than I could have ever imagined.

 

I began to back away. Niall stayed where he was as I exited his room. I assumed that’s where he stayed as I quickly left his house. Somewhere between his front door and the sidewalk I realized that my car was still at home, and I still had Niall’s clothes on. But there was no chance of me going back in there.

 

So, tucking the large polo into his boxers, I began the long and hasty walk home.

 

 

___

 

Hello, all! I would just like to start off by thanking you all for reading and bookmarking and leaving kudos, it means a ton. Second, I would like to apologize for not posting in a while. Things have gotten a little busy and I don't know how far in between updates could be. I hope not more than two or three weeks, but there's no way to be sure because my writing takes a lot more time to produce.

I just want to thank you all for the wonderful comments so far; but I haven't gotten any in a while and it has me worried that some of you aren't liking the story as much as you have been. Please just take the thirty seconds or less it takes to drop me a comment and tell me what you think of the story so far.

Thank you all so much! xx


	12. Twelve.

I got all the way home before realizing that I’d left my phone at Niall’s as well.  I groaned as I collapsed onto my sofa, taking in what all had happened.

 

I’d cooled down on the long walk home.  I didn’t have to cry anymore, and my emotions were back in check.  I’d been wrong to think that I didn’t want to be Niall’s friend.  Looking back on past interactions between Niall and I, I realized that Niall’s reaction to everything today was the biggest step toward friendship he’d ever taken with me.  He’d stopped himself from hurting me.  The only angry words directed toward me were ‘get out’.  I’d made it home, unharmed.

 

Feeling a bit greasy from the party the night before, I decided to have a shower.  As I tugged Niall’s polo over my head, my bandeau underneath rode up a bit.  I bent down to shrug off his boxer’s, folding both pieces of clothing and scooting them to the corner.  As I straightened, my midsection caught my eye.  Just below the end of the bandeau was the cut I’d made just four days ago, a thin scab forming where blood had once been drawn.

 

Four days ago, I’d needed that.  I’d needed a sense of control so much that I’d resorted to inflicting pain on my body.  Niall had made my life seem so out of control that I’d done this to myself.  And now, it seemed impossible that Niall could’ve done any of those things to me - especially after he’d controlled his anger.  But there was still that lingering feeling that the old Niall was still in there somewhere, waiting for me to trigger it.  Yet still, I felt stupid for hurting myself.

 

I let my finger trace the line, still a bit sore.  It’d been a fairly shallow cut, but that didn’t keep it from having the same effect on me.  Now, the reasons for my self-harm seemed ridiculous and unnecessary.  I rested my hand over it, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.  The boy who’d made me feel out of control had started to become my friend.  Niall, who’d seemed like he hated me, now was acting as if I was actually a human being.

 

Was that what I’d wanted all along?  To be treated like a human being?  Not just like some punching bag, there for his personal abuse.  I wanted to be treated right by Niall.  By _Niall._ I realized that I didn’t care what everyone else did to me, I just cared that _Niall_  was treating me right.  What did that have to say about me?

 

I shook my head to clear it, then finished undressing myself as the shower heated.  I stepped in and let the water wash over, the steam clearing my lungs and mind.  All thoughts of Niall left me at that moment, and I focused on the water pounding gently on my back.

 

About thirty minutes later I stepped out, my skin tinged red from the heat of the water.  I dried myself off and pulled on a pair of gray sweatpants along with a peach colored sweatshirt and black socks.  I let my hair dry naturally, the water turning it an even deeper shade of brown than what it already was.  My eyes were heavy, though it was only about five o’clock.  I’d been through a lot in these past few days, and I was ready for a long break.

 

I shuffled down the stairs and into the living room, the couch welcoming me with open arms.  I gratefully dove into the cushions and pillows, burying my head into the comforting smell of my own home.

 

It felt odd to say ‘my own home’.  No, I didn’t own the house, and no, I didn’t pay for the expenses.  My parents had jobs for that.  Both of their jobs just took them in separate directions, leaving me here to finish school and tend to the house.  They came and went - the longest they’d stopped by in about five months was a week, and that was for Christmas.  I was left to live on my own, so I had to deal with my own problems.  My self harm had just been the answer to most of them.

 

I sighed into the pillow I was holding, wanting to just fall asleep.  I’d have to get my phone from Niall’s later, once I’d given him enough time to cool off.  From my knowledge of him, cooling off took a fairly long time.  Plus, who was I going to text?  My parents didn’t call home, and no one beside Niall had my number.

 

I inhaled deeply.  Why were all of my thoughts consumed by Niall now?  Before this project it’d been schoolwork, tutoring, and other things like that.  Now, it seemed that _all_  that was on my mind was either Niall or his sudden change in behavior.  I needed a distraction, something to clear my head.

 

I rolled off of the sofa, landing on my rear and scooting over to the movie shelf.  After grabbing the television remote, I selected a random title and popped it into the DVD player.  Quickly, I hopped up and grabbed a snack from the fridge - red peppers and ranch dressing.  I had no clue how I’d made the connection between the two - all I knew was that it was good.

 

Truthfully, I didn’t even watch the first half of the movie.  I was too tired, my mind drifting to either Niall or the project we still had to film and finish.  Even though we had until the last week of school to finish it, I wanted to get it done so that we could focus on Niall’s grades for finals.  Because of the project, we hadn’t had time to get any tutoring done, and I worried for Niall’s next test.  If Niall either dropped or maintained his percentage for an extended period of time, I’d have my tutoring privileges taken away and Niall would be given a new tutor.  Honestly, I didn’t want to put another person through his abuse.

 

The second half of the movie didn’t even register in my brain.  I was already asleep.

 

 

\---

 

 

I woke to the TV blaring back at me.  My eyes jolted open and I sat straight up, searching for the remote.  I spotted it under the pillow I’d been using.  I’d been laying on it, and I must’ve moved so the volume button was pressed down.  I scrambled for it, just clicking the ‘off’ button and letting the remote fall to the floor.

 

I sighed, collapsing back into the soft and welcoming sofa.  Sadly, though, my mind wouldn’t let me fall back asleep.  After staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever, I glanced at the clock and sighed.  It was only eight at night, and I had a few too many hours of sleep to catch up on.  Even worse, I had a headache.

 

I shifted off the couch and headed into the kitchen, fumbling around in the freezer before coming up with an ice pack.  I held it to my head and it helped a bit, then poured myself a glass of water.  I guess the effects of alcohol were still getting the better of me.  Note to self; never drink again.

 

I shuffled into the living room again, this time not even making it to the sofa before falling to the floor in exhaustion.  I was so _tired_ , but I couldn’t fall asleep.  Maybe if I had a few less things to worry about, or if I didn’t have a pounding headache - maybe then I’d be able to sleep.

 

My thoughts then drifted to Niall, who happened to be the prime source of my headache.  His confusing actions, the party he’d taken me to, the project we needed to finish, his grades we needed to worry about.  All of these together resulted in my aching head.  And now, since my thoughts were centered on him, my headache only grew worse.

 

I held the icepack to my forehead and sipped my water, but this proved ineffective.  Instead, my hands reached up to my temples, rubbing them to see if this helped.  I found out quickly that the answer was no, and resorted to just curling up and holding my pounding head.

 

I could literally feel the blood rushing to it, coursing throughout my body and causing pain.  It wasn’t only my head that hurt, now it was my neck.  This pain lasted for a while, my throat constricting uncomfortably, then traveled down and sunk into my chest.  I struggled for breath, the pain enveloping my whole upper body as I sat up slowly.  This movement ended up being my downfall - the pain dropped into my stomach, and before I knew it, I was up and running for the restroom.  My damp hair was tugged back into a ponytail as I kneeled to the floor in front of the toilet, proceeding to retch more than I had in my whole life.

 

I tasted stale alcohol in the bile that raised from my stomach, and knew right away that this was the aftermath of my first drinking experience.  It’d just taken a while for it to work its way through my body.  As soon as the first wave of heaving was over, I hissed in a breath, not wanting to subject my mouth to the horrible taste.  I took in another breath, hearing it hitch as another wave of nausea came over me.  I doubled over, retching into the toilet once again.  Forget never drinking again, I was never going to another _party_  again.

 

As soon as my nausea passed, I flushed the toilet and pulled myself off the floor.  Thank goodness the pain in my stomach had gone, but my head still hurt mildly.  I made my way to the kitchen, then moved to the sink to fill my glass back up with water.  I rinsed my mouth, spitting what was left of the sour bile into the sink and using the faucet to wash it down the drain.  I shakily filled my glass again, then drank slowly as I walked up the stairs and into the other bathroom.

 

I set the glass down beside the sink and reached for my toothbrush, making sure to get extra paste on it before brushing for the next five minutes.  I shivered a bit as I rinsed my mouth.  Being sick wasn’t high on my ‘favorites’ list.  In fact, I tried to prevent being sick as much as I could.

 

I wasn’t too gross, so I just settled for changing into a new sweatshirt.  This one was teal, reflecting off of my dark eyes in an odd way.  I stared in the mirror at myself, standing in the middle of my bedroom in the soft light my lamp caused.  I looked tired - my eyes were a bit red, and the corners of my mouth tipped down out of stress and exhaustion.

 

I sighed and turned away from my  reflection.  Walking to the window, I looked out through the slitted blinds at the dark sky, then at a single lamppost.  The concentrated glow made my head start to throb again, and I cursed as I rubbed my eyes and shuffled back downstairs.

 

When I got to the kitchen, my head seemed to have a dull thud to it.  I tapped the counter as I passed it, but I couldn’t really tell if it was my head I heard or the granite countertop.  Hastily, I pulled down another cup from the cabinet and filled it.  I quickly downed it, filling another one and drinking that as well.  Though it was refreshing to my sore throat, it did nothing to calm my headache.

 

Thankfully, my headache didn’t transfer down my my stomach again.  It simply stayed put, pounding in my ears as I squeezed my eyes shut and attempted to walk back to the sofa.  As soon as I’d made it there I collapsed again, feeling the drain of my energy hit me like a ton of bricks.  I shoved my face into the pillows and sighed, still trying - though unsuccessfully - to ebb the ache in my head.  Quite literally, I felt it in my ears.  It sounded as if someone was knocking directly on my skull - with a hammer.

 

It was so loud, in fact, that I almost missed the knocking at the door.

 

My eyes shot open and I sat straight up.  I cringed at the sudden movement, but forced myself to stand anyway.  Who in the world would be knocking on my door at - I turned to check the clock - nearly nine-thirty?  Stumbling every few steps, I made my way to the door.  I glanced in the hall mirror, but turned away at the sight of me.  I looked worn and tired.

 

Gritting my teeth, I adjusted my loose ponytail and felt for the doorknob in the semidarkness.  In my tired state, my judgement was off.  I probably shouldn’t have opened the door.  I should’ve ignored it and fallen back asleep.  But I opened the door anyway.

 

My heart stopped when I found Niall on my front porch.

 

“Samm,” he breathed, looking at me, seemingly filled with relief.  If I hadn’t been confused enough already, this put the icing on the cake.

 

“N-Niall,” I stuttered, rubbing my temple and wincing.  “What are you doing here?”

 

“Erm,” he said, and I could tell he was trying to find words.  “Here.”

 

I noticed that he had two things in his hand as he held it out to me.  The first was the pair of shorts I’d accidentally left.  The second was my phone.  My eyes flickered up to his, then back down to my things.  I quickly took them from him, tossing them on the stairs.  I turned back to him, still unsure of his anger from before.  Had he cooled down, or was this his way of making up for the beating I’d missed?

 

“Samm,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and shifting his weight between his feet.  There was no sign of the gray in his eyes that I’d seen before.  The deep blue of them was back, and I realized that Niall didn’t seem angry anymore.  I relaxed a bit.

 

“What is it?” I asked, my voice still a bit quiet.  The pounding in my head ceased the slightest bit, one thing to stress about now gone.

 

Niall took a deep breath, then looked down at the ground.  “I’m sorry…  About today, you know?  I didn’t mean to get…  I didn’t mean to take that out on you.”

 

I felt my eyebrows draw together in confusion.  Was Niall…  _Apologizing?_   He’d never controlled his anger, let alone _apologized_  - or even shown up at my doorstep to do so!  Today was just full of firsts for Niall, and this in itself was beginning to build my stress.

 

I didn’t know what to say.  I just stood there like an idiot, gaping at Niall’s behavior.  What was going on?  Was he _trying_  to confuse me?  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, or had been seeing for the past four - nearly five - days.  Was it safe to say that I just didn’t know what to say in general?

 

“Samm?” Niall asked as he looked up, grabbing my attention again.  My gaze flickered to his eyes.  Again, I found no sign of anger in them.

 

“Yeah?” I asked, tucking a piece of hair that had fallen out of my ponytail behind my ear.

 

“Can - can I come inside?” he asked.

 

I willed my mouth not to drop.  He sounded so…  Small.  And he’d asked to come in.  Just four days ago, he’d said that he never wanted to come into my home.  Filthy and disgusting, he’d called it.  But it seemed like he’d changed so much from then.  I found myself biting my lip, not saying anything.

 

Niall sighed at my stunned silence.  “I’m sorry.  Can we talk?  I - I want to explain.”


	13. Thirteen.

"Thanks," Niall said as I handed him a glass of water.

 

 

        I nodded and sat down across the room, cross legged and sipping the cup of tea I'd made.  It proved helpful in relieving my headache.

 

        I felt odd, sitting across from the boy who'd abused me for so long and trying to have a somewhat normal conversation with him.  Given, we weren't even  _talking_  yet, so I could only imagine what it would be like when Niall started to...  _explain_.  But for a while we just sat there, and I started to worry if Niall was going to say anything at all.  Finally, he cleared his throat.

 

        "I just want to start off by saying I'm sorry," he said, looking down at the ground and rubbing his forehead.  "I shouldn't have reacted like that.  It's been a long time, I should be over it by now."

 

        I bit my lip, staring down into my cup of tea.  I didn't know what to say or do.  This had never happened to me before.  What was I supposed to do?  Agree that he shouldn't have acted like  _himself_ and risk another fit of anger?  Lord knows that's what would've happened.  To avoid saying anything, I sipped my tea again and waited for Niall to speak.

 

        "I haven’t picked up that camera in a long time.  That picture you saw," he said, running a hand through his blonde hair, brown at the roots.  "That was our family before...  Before my father died."

 

        Hearing these words leave his mouth, my chest constricted and my gaze flicked up to him.  Niall's face was solemn, reflecting regret and sadness.  He was telling the truth.  This realization made me feel pity toward him.  But if I knew Niall at all, I knew that pity - among other things - set him off more than anything.  I settled for saying nothing.

 

        Niall took a deep breath.  "Kidney failure, the doctors said."  A small, forced chuckle escaped him.  "He was a heavy drinker - had been for nearly all of his life.  One day, his body just gave out on him.  Broke poor Mum's heart and tore our family to pieces."

 

        I remembered seeing the picture on the small camera screen.  Maura, Niall, the man, and the other boy.  The man must have been Niall's father, and the other boy must have been Niall's older brother.  They seemed like the happiest people in the world.  But Niall had said that was  _before_  his father died.  What of his brother?

 

        "My brother," Niall continued, as if reading my thoughts.  "Took it the hardest, I'd say.  Those two did everything together.  Quite literally, they were always with each other."  He chuckled again, this time a little more genuine.  "Sometimes, I swore they even went to the bathroom together."

 

        I couldn't help smiling a bit at this.  The relationship Niall described was something I'd never had with either of my parents, nor ever would.  At times it was horribly frustrating that Mum and Dad couldn't be here for just  _one_  night, whether I needed them or not.  And whether I'd have liked to admit it or not, I loved my parents.  They'd pretty much set me on my own from the time I could take care of myself, and I'd never quite gotten over it.  But I'd have much rather known that my parents were still there in a sense, rather than not living anymore.

 

        "The reason Greg - my brother - left," Niall continued, rubbing the right side of his face.  "Is still kind of confusing to me.  It was either the fact that he couldn't handle Dad's death, he felt as if our family couldn't function without Dad, or having to see Mum unravel right in front of us.  He was right to leave on all accounts."  I watched as Niall set his glass down on the side table and began rubbing his tired eyes.  "I just wish he could've taken me with him."

 

        I bit the inside of my cheek.  I felt horrible.  Was this the whole reason Niall had been so cruel?  Because he was still trying to cope with his father's death?  The thought seemed radical, seeing as I had nothing to do with this.  But it also seemed realistic of Niall at the same time.  If two people were torn from my life all at once, I'd probably leave as well.

 

        "When did your father pass?" I questioned, my voice wavering.

 

        Niall kept his head turned to the ground as I heard him take in a shaky breath.  "About seven years now."

 

        I set my tea town on the carpet next to the sofa.  "That long," I said, just above a whisper.

 

        Half of Niall's family had been gone for seven years.  The thought crushed me.  I hadn't really thought about it much before, but Niall and I were similar.  Two important people were missing from our lives, leaving a large gap in our hearts.  Whether it ran as wide for me as it did for Niall, I had no idea.  As Niall looked up to me through red eyes, I saw pain that wore deep inside him.  This meant a lot to him.

 

        Niall nodded and rubbed his nose.  "Just recently - about three years ago - Mum finally started to come around.  She gradually became her old self - only not exactly the same, you know?  She still has those moments where she just stares off into the distance, and I know she's thinking of him."

 

        I rubbed my eyes, trying to get the tired and teary sting out of them.  Maybe Niall and I weren't so different after all.  Maybe I just had a different way of handling it than aggression.  I looked up, finding Niall already watching me.

 

        "You know what it feels like," Niall stated simply.  It wasn’t a question.  The tone of his voice made my bottom lip quiver.  He was so blank about the subject.  How could he keep together so well while telling me this?  I had it nowhere near as bad, yet my tears were already threatening to form.

 

        "In a sense," I whispered.  "Two thirds of my family is God Knows Where, and I've been left to raise myself."

 

        The corners of Niall's mouth tipped down in a sad grimace.  "I know what you mean.  When Mum sort of just checked out, I was left to get myself up and out every single day.  Only, I had to provide for the both of us while she was encased in her own thoughts."

 

        "I've just never had anyone there," I told him quietly, sniffing and staring at the ground.

 

        "I may as well not have," he answered.

 

        It was silent in the long minutes following.  I'd thought that this conversation was supposed to be about Niall's self-explanation and apology - not about mine as well.  But I'd never really told anyone about my life.  Like I'd said, no one had ever been there for me before.  Niall was the only real friend I'd ever had - if I could even consider Niall a friend.

 

        I'd had so much trouble in the past even opening up to  _myself_.  Up until now, I'd never talked about my parents like that.  Putting my situation into words was an odd thing, even though I was right about it.  Mum and Dad had rarely been there for me, and in a way that had made me who I was.  I wondered if I would've turned out differently if they'd been there.  Maybe I would've been able to stand up for my self every once in a while.  Maybe I'd have friends.  Maybe I wouldn't have been in this situation with Niall.

 

        But those were all 'what ifs'.  I would never really know, and I couldn't change it anyway.  I'd have to focus on how to go on with my life - first by dealing with the current situation.  I just didn't know how.

 

        After another minute or so, Niall cleared his throat.  My gaze shifted toward his face, looking tired and sad.  His blue eyes rested on mine for a few seconds, then flicked back to the ground.

 

        "I shouldn't have taken it out on you," he said, repeating the apology he'd spoken earlier.

 

        I shook my head.  "I shouldn't have been looking through the camera anyway."

 

        "I wasn't talking about just today," he said, so quietly I was afraid I'd just imagined it.  But his eyes drifted up again, searching mine for an answer.

 

        My chest tightened.  Had Niall just apologized for the abuse he'd put me through for so long?  No, he couldn’t possibly have meant that.  He’d never been sorry - but then again, he’d never been like this before.  There was something about him that had changed in these past several days.  Some of it was subtle, but most of the changes in character he’d undergone were large - his behavior and actions toward me being the main components.  With Niall, though, I could never really be sure.  His mood could shift in an instant and I could end up hurt again.  But maybe he really  _was_  sorry, and I had just built my walls too thick to see that.

 

Niall looked up at me expectantly.  I didn’t know what he was looking for.  Forgiveness?  Was that it?  After all he’d put me through, he expected me to forgive him after a ten-minute conversation?  I remembered all of the nights I’d come home, bruised and broken, feeling as if my control were spiraling right out of my own hands.  I recalled all the cuts, all the bloodied razors, all of the scars I’d inflicted upon myself, indirectly caused by Niall.  All of the insults came back to me, the ones that tore me down, seemingly beyond repair.  What was I supposed to tell him?  That everything was okay, when it never had been?

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I choked out.  My voice sounded weak, and I cursed myself for letting everything from the past jump on me like that.

 

I saw Niall’s jaw clench and my body immediately tensed.  I’d spoken the wrong thing, I knew it.  I’d said what he didn’t want to hear, and now I’d dug myself a hole.  My breath hitched as his body poised for movement, acting out in a standing motion.  I was only three or four inches shorter than him, but while he stood and I sat, I felt like an ant.

 

“There’s nothing to be said,” Niall said shakily, rubbing his forehead.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have expected anything from you.”

 

My jaw nearly dropped as I watched him begin walking out of the living room.  Niall had just controlled his anger again.  For the second time that day, I’d seen him hold back.  And even more surprising, he’d mixed an apology into the mess.  Was I being too hard on him?  If he’d done this much for me, the least I could’ve done was accept the plea for forgiveness.  I’d built the walls around myself too thick.  At this point, no one could get in - and if I didn’t start chipping away at it now, it’d never give way to the people who would mean the most to me.

 

And whether I liked to admit it or not, Niall had a lot of meaning in my life, may it be good or bad.

 

By the time I’d realized this, the sound of the front door was already reaching the living room.  A quick breath was taken in through my nose as I stood from the sofa, striding through the living room and into the front hall.  The front door came into view, Niall halfway through the doorframe and on his way out.

 

“Niall, wait,” I said, the words falling out of my mouth before I had time to think about them.

 

His head whipped around, staring at me with wide and confused blue eyes.  His expression still resembled the sadness and disappointment I’d seem not a minute ago, but this look contained more hope in it.  I bit my lip as I continued closer to him.  He was standing, frozen in the doorframe as I approached, ten feet, five feet, three feet now.  I suddenly stopped short, not knowing what in God’s name I was going to do in the first place.

 

What had been my goal of stopping him?  What was the purpose of my sudden burst of courage.  I couldn’t think of anything to say.  In fact, I had no words.  I only had feelings to offer, but I didn’t know how to show any of them.  I’d never had to.

 

_Look at you, now you’ve gone and made a fool of yourself_ , I thought, cursing to myself.   _You haven’t got time to figure out what to say.  Just…  Feel._

 

So I did just that.

 

I just did what I felt.  There was no time to think, no thought process involved.  Looking back now, it may have been a horribly dumb thing to do.  There was no telling how Niall could’ve reacted.  But I did it, nonetheless.

 

I stepped two feet closer to Niall, then proceeded to throwing my arms around his torso.  By the tensing of his body, I knew he hadn’t been expecting it.  Hell, neither had I!   _Samm, you idiot, what are you doing?_

 

For at least five seconds we stood there, trying to figure out what to do.  I had my arms tightly around his midsection, my eyes closed tightly as my head rested against his warm chest and the top of my head pressed lightly against his jaw.  His heart beat erratically next to my ear, and I could’ve sworn that my own stopped as I felt Niall begin to finally move.  But it wasn’t to hurt me.

 

Niall’s body relaxed, replacing his tense posture as I felt his arms find their way around my shoulders.  I tried my best not to flinch as his palms pressed flat to my back, their warmth odd to my body, riddled with nervous chills.  My eyes closed tighter as I drew in a much needed breath, right after I’d realized I hadn’t been.  It felt as if Niall did the same, his chest rising subtly against my cheek.

 

Maybe it was because I realized that Niall and I weren’t so different after all - or maybe it was because I felt bad for pushing him away after he’d tried to mend a broken bridge - or maybe it was for a different reason entirely.  No matter the reason, it felt right to accept his apologies.  I knew that if I were in his position, all I’d want was forgiveness.  And maybe…  Maybe I needed this as well.

 

I was sure we’d been standing there, without a word, for at least a full two minutes.  Neither of us had said anything, though so many thoughts were flying through my head.  My mind was a jumbled mess with memories of past abuse and current kindness, along with several emotions thrown in on top.

 

Something in my chest tightened as I felt the bottom of Niall’s head rest against the top of mine.  My body filled with a tingling warmth, something foreign to me.  But after a few seconds of this, I realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.  After all, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ever given or received an embrace like this one.  I’d actually forgotten how nice it was to feel wanted.  And after nearly the third minute of silence, I decided that it was my turn to speak.

 

“Thank you,” I mumbled into his chest.  The words were simple, but I felt Niall let out a long sigh.

 

“I suppose I should be saying the same to you,” he spoke, the vibration of his voice against the skin of my cheek causing me to open my eyes.

 

The sky was dark, as I assumed it was nearly ten o’clock.  The street lamps were dimly lit, illuminating only small sections of the smooth, concrete road.  Tomorrow was Sunday, usually a quiet day for me.  Then again, Saturdays were usually quiet days as well.  Niall had changed that drastically today.  Speaking of…

 

I began loosening my arms around his torso, and he did the same.  I took a step back, averting my eyes for a bit before letting them drift to Niall’s face.  Seeing his blue eyes, darkened by the night sky and at the same time being lit up by the light coming from inside my home, another flush of warmth went through my chest.  They were no longer filled with the disappointment that made them dull.  They reflected the hope and expectancy that I’d seen in him before, the kind that made his eyes shine a bit brighter.  Seeing him this way made the corners of my mouth tug upward.

 

“Thank you,” I repeated.  I couldn’t find anything else to say.

 

Niall mimicked my small grin.  “And thank you as well.  I didn’t realize there was someone else in a similar situation.”

 

My cheeks grew a bit warm, though I didn’t know why.  “I’m here to help,” I told him.  “If you ever need anything.”

 

Instead of getting angry like he had when I’d first offered t help, it seemed as if Niall grew a bit brighter.  “And I’d be glad to return the favor.”

 

I nodded.  A cool breeze kicked up a bit, chilling my arms.  I rubbed them lightly, look at Niall as he rubbed the back of his neck.  He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking apologetically as me.

 

“Do you have my clothes?” he asked.

 

My cheeks burned fiercely at the way he’d said the words.  I nodded anyway, then offered to run up and retrieve them.  He said he’d wait, and I returned shortly with his folded boxers and polo.  The whole trip, I’d been blushing madly.  it felt weird to be wearing anyone’s clothes beside mine.

 

“I guess I should be on my way,” he spoke after shifting his weight.

 

I nodded, placing my hand on the doorknob as I watched him job out to his car.  I was about to shut the front door when Niall suddenly called my name.  I turned my attention to him, raising an eyebrow and leaning against the doorframe.

 

I heard his deep breath from the street.  “Have you ever had...  Any trouble in dealing with everything?  Your parents, I mean.”

 

At first I’d thought he meant the abuse he’d put me through.  My chest tightened as I thought I’d have to explain that yes, my troubled way of dealing with it was self harm.  but my parents...  I’d never thought about an troubles in coping resulting from the absence of Mum and Dad.

 

I slowly shook my head.  “No,” I told him.  “None that I can remember.”  I watched as Niall rubbed the side of his face, then opened the driver’s side door.

 

“Okay,” he answered.  “I’ll see you Monday, then.  Good night.”

 

I brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear.  “Good night,” I called back, then watched as he slid into his car and drove off.

 

I closed the door, then fell back against it for support.  I rubbed my forehead, another headache blooming already.  I chewed the inside of my cheek, confusion and worry taking up half of my thoughts.

 

Niall had apologized for everything.  The abuse, the names,  _everything_.  But did that mean that it would end?  
  
  



	14. 14

Sunday consisted of only two tasks.  The first was to set the house straight, seeing as I hadn't in a while - the second was a small paper that I'd opted for in order to make up for the essay I'd butchered.  I tried to forget that it was Niall who'd destroyed it in the first place, and it seemed to have been working.

 

I didn't attend any form of church.  My parents were never ones to stress religion, though both they and I believed in God.  I just didn't see a point in having the same thing taught to you week after week.  Once had always been enough for me.  Plus, I always had homework and housecleaning to worry about.

 

I finished folding a pair of my jeans and set them aside with the others.  I hadn't folded in a long time.  Usually, I just let it sit in the dryer until I needed it.  But it felt nice to be able to go to my closet for clothes again.  So I continued folding and washing until there wasn't a dirty piece of clothing in sight.  I will admit that it got my mind off of everything that'd been happening lately.  Dealing with Niall and everything else was tiring, and this was a well-deserved break.

 

At about two o'clock the house phone started to ring.  My eyebrows raised.  People rarely called here, unless they had the wrong number while trying to reach one or both of my parents.  I checked the number, but ignored it when it didn't register as familiar.  They'd either leave a message or figure out they had the wrong number.

 

A while after the phone stopped ringing, I felt my stomach growl.  I sighed, picking up my laptop and moving down to the kitchen.  I set it on the table and inspected the fridge, but found nothing desirable.  I found an instant meal in the pantry, then tossed that in the microwave before sitting down at the table.  While it cooked, I typed away at my paper, the subject unknown to me at this point.  I was simply relaying information, reworded excerpts from online sources I'd found.  I had no interest in completing the assignment anymore, but I'd promised I'd get my grade up.

 

Suddenly, the phone started to ring again.  My head snapped up, taken by surprise.  Was it the same person?  The answering machine was set up to give the number to my parents' phones, and usually people didn't call more than once in this amount of time.  Intrigued, I walked over to where the phone dock was placed on the counter.

 

The caller ID was unfamiliar, so I let it go again.  Maybe they'd leave a message or call my parents.  Phone calls were inconvenient in the way that they broke my focus.  I sighed and sat back down at the table, typing away at my essay.

 

I'd been at it for about four hours when I finally decided to call it good.  It was supposed to be a small essay anyway, so I didn't mind when it only printed out two and a half pages.  My empty bowl sat next to my computer on the table.  I checked the clock above the stove and sighed.  It was only about seven o'clock, yet I felt worn out.  This weekend had been horribly stressful, with the party, the fact that I woke up in Niall's house, Niall's outburst, talking about my parents, our embrace...

 

I was tired.  That was plain to see.

 

So I simply closed my laptop, set my dirty dishes in the sink, and trudged up the stairs, my eyelids fluttering closed the whole way there.

 

 

\---

 

 

The next morning felt odd.  Just waking up felt strange, as if it weren't day, night, or any time of the week at all.  I felt uncomfortable in my own skin.  When my foot slipped on the stairs I didn't even have the awareness to cry out as my arm reached behind me to brace my fall, but ended up twisting under the impact of my tailbone against the corner of the stair.

 

I slid down the next three stairs in a daze, my teeth ground tightly together as I pulled my hand out from under myself.  As I came to a stop at the bottom of the staircase, the pain in my hand and wrist started to sink in.  I cursed multiple times as I shuffled into the kitchen, arm held out to inspect the injury.  It wasn't broken, I knew that.  But by the way I'd twisted it, maybe a strained ligament.  I wasn't sure.

 

I checked the clock.  It was only about seven thirty.  I contemplated the importance of first period, seeing as it was only a study hall.  I had all of my homework completed and I felt that a trip to the doctor would be beneficial.

 

I tried moving my wrist but winced at the sharp pain.  I'd definitely strained something, and pain killers definitely wouldn't hurt.  So I grabbed my jacket, phone, and school bag, then headed out to my car.

 

Driving with only one hand was horribly complicated.  My left arm was held out as I used my good hand to steer.  Thankfully my right hand was my dominant, or otherwise I would've been having even more trouble.  By the time I'd made it to the clinic, I swore at least three horns had sounded in my direction.

 

I parked as well as I could and walked in, the gazes of two small children falling upon me.  I smiled softly at them in acknowledgement and walked up to the front desk.

 

"How can I help you?" the lady sat at the desk asked, giving me a warm smile.

 

"Erm," I said, wiggling the fingers on my left hand to make sure they were still moving alright.  They were, so I was positive that it wasn't a break.  "Could I see the physician about an injury I recently got?"

 

"Sure," the woman said, clicking the mouse while scrolling around the screen.  "Just have a seat right over there and I'll have a doctor for you in just a minute. Could I get your name?"

 

"Samm Carter," I told her.

 

She nodded and typed a series of letters on the keyboard while I made my way to a seat on the other side of the room, away from the toddlers that I now noticed had shiny trails of drainage flowing from their nose.  Colds, I assumed.  I settled into the seat and studied the pictures on the walls, mostly paintings of mountain or beach sceneries.  They were interesting, blending in nicely with the colors on the walls.

 

"Samm Carter?" A high voice said from the other side of the room, drawing my attention.

 

"Yes?" I said as I stood.

 

"Right this way," the lady said, gesturing down a hallway.  She looked like she was in her mid-thirties.  Scrubs with small ducks dotting them were worn by her, a good fit for her benevolent face.

 

I nodded, following her as she took me down two different hallways, then to a door on the right.  "Make yourself comfortable," she said as I walked in ahead of her.  "The doctor will be in with you in a moment."

 

"Thanks," I said quietly, taking a seat on the small stool next to the padded table.  The lady left the room, closing the door behind her.

 

I studied the walls of this room, not much different than the waiting room out front.  The walls were a neutral tan, orange pictures every few square feet.  It gave a comfortable feeling to the room, almost a sleepy vibe.  I sighed and leaned against the arm rest, setting my chin in my uninjured hand.  There was a dull throb in my left hand, emanating from the base of my wrist.  The pain was bearable, but I would've preferred to go without.  Thankfully, the doctor entered about two minutes later.

 

"Hello," he said as soon as he was through the door.  He had a peppy attitude about him.  His glasses balanced on the end of his nose, and I felt like they would fall off as he sat down in the chair across from me.  "Samm, right?"

 

I nodded.  The doctor smiled.

 

"I'm Dr. Phillips, but it's alright if you call me Phil," he told me, clicking his pen against the clipboard in his lap.

 

When I said nothing to start with, he did so.

 

"So what seems to be the problem?" he asked me.  He ran a hand over the small head of hair adorning him, and I bit my lip.

 

"I - erm," I said, not sure how to word the explanation without feeling like a complete idiot.  "I fell down the stairs - and when I tried to catch myself, I - I fell back and sat on my - erm - hand."

 

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear as I folded my hands in my lap, making sure not to put any pressure against my wrist.  It wasn't my hand that'd been hurt, it'd been my wrist.  The twist was what'd done it, along with the pressure applied to the already vulnerable point.

 

"So," Dr. Phillips said, tone turned serious.  The sudden change threw me off.  I hadn't been to many doctors, but none of them had been able to change mood so quickly.  "You say your hand?"  I nodded.  "May I see it?"

 

I held out my left arm.  Dr. Phillips took my wrist gently, turning it over carefully.  I realized that, in this light, my wrist looked slightly bruised, and felt as such.

 

"Hmm," he said, brushing his finger over the most sore part.  "You can move your fingers?"  I flexed all five in response.  He nodded.  "Can you rotate your wrist?"  I grit my teeth, moving my wrist carefully in all directions.  It hurt, but slowly it was manageable.  "It's not broken, that's for sure.  I'm positive that it's not a fracture, either.  You'd be in much more pain."

 

He dropped my hand, letting me rest it back in my lap.  He stood, turning to the cabinet in the corner and browsing the contents.  A few seconds later he drew back his hand with a roll of gauze.  He then sat back down in front of me and motioned for my hand again.

 

"From what you're describing, it's just a strain," Dr. Phillips said.  "Icing, rest, and a gauze wrap should have it better in a few days."

 

I sighed in relief.  I didn't think that I could've gone through a broken bone, not by myself.  At least I could use it, somewhat.

 

"Here," Dr. Phillips said, wrapping the first of the gauze around my wrist, then up over my thumb and back down again.  "This is how you wrap it.  Don't use so much that you can't move your wrist, but enough that it's not flimsy.  It'll hurt for a while, but I don't think that painkillers are necessary."

 

I nodded, though painkillers would've been a luxury.  He quickly ran through icing instructions and certain things that I should and shouldn’t do.  Basically, if it hurt, I shouldn’t do it.  Needless to say I was fine with that.

 

After he’d left the room I went back up to the front desk to give her my insurance information.  I didn’t owe anything, my parents paid for it with their work.  After I’d left, the time indicated that school was already well into third period.

 

I sighed.  If I’d have gone to school right away and not had the mishap with my wrist, I would’ve been obligated to carry out the school day.  But now I didn’t feel like doing anything except lying in bed and sleeping the day away.  I mean, what was the harm in taking a free day?  I hadn’t missed a day of school in about three years, and now seemed like the perfect time to break the streak.  So before I could think better of it, I directed my car toward home.

 

 

\---

 

 

I all but fell into my bed when I got home.  My blanket surrounded me and seemed to swallow me whole, but I didn’t mind it.  The trek up the stairs had been nearly impossible, my eyelids falling closed the whole climb.  Thank God I’d decided to stay home, or I probably would’ve fallen asleep in class.  I didn’t really have anything to worry about at school anyway, other than the paper I’d just turn in tomorrow.

 

I curled myself in my blanket, my breathing slowing to a steady pace.  I breathed through my nose and rubbed my eye, something I'd always done when I became overwhelmingly tired.  I was in no shape to think, so I didn't.  I didn't think about anything, really.  My mind was clear, the events of the past week and the previous hours slipping my memory.  After all, I always slept the best with a blank head.

 

I shifted over, making sure not to put any pressure on my injured wrist.  And from there, I buried my face into my pillow and drifted off.

 

My unconsciousness was broken by the blaring ring of the home phone.  It echoed throughout the house, seeing as there were several phones around the home.  This tone was terribly irritating.  I groaned and rolled over, trying to cover my ears with my pillow.  The noise still reached my ears, and I growled as I sat up and strode over to the phone in a daze.  This was the third time I'd been called in not even a full day, and whoever was calling wasn't getting the memo that my parents weren't here.  They never had been.

 

I shook my head, tucking a bit of my hair behind my ear.  When I felt the knot in my hair, I knew that it'd be a nightmare to comb through.  Just another thing to worry about.  I was already angry from the rude awakening.

 

I stomped down the upstairs hallway in search of the phone.  I'd left the door to my room open, letting the already echoing ring to resonate in my room.  And since the phone was placed at the end of the hall, it took me more time than I could tolerate to stop the noise.

 

At first I debated just pressing the button that stopped the phone from ringing.  But then I saw the number, same as before.  The same person was calling for the third time.

 

My eyebrows rose noticeably.  Maybe this person wasn't trying to reach my parents.  Maybe they were trying to reach _me_.

 

Slowly, I reached out for the phone on the small table.  I took it in my hand and pressed the 'connect call' button, then held it up to my ear.  I couldn't remember the last time I'd picked up the home phone, much less answer a call.

 

"Hello?" I said hesitantly, hearing a lot of background noise through the receiver.

 

"Samantha!" a high voice piped on the other end.  I almost dropped the phone.  It was my mum.

 

"Mum?" I asked frantically, confused beyond belief.

 

"Samantha, it's me!  I tried calling you last night, but you didn’t answer!" she shouted over the noise.  I winced.  I didn't like being called 'Samantha', especially with my mum's higher voice.

 

"Hi, Mum," I said.  I hadn't heard her voice in so long, it almost felt like I was talking to a complete stranger.

 

"How have you been?  I hope I caught you at a good time." she said cheerily.  To me, the sound felt like fingernails on a chalkboard.

 

"I've been alright," I said, careful not to allow any emotion into my voice.  "Why are you calling?"  I'd always been one to be quite up-front with my parents.

 

"Can I not check in on my daughter?" Mum laughed.  There was the sound of rough movement in the background, almost like a zipper being tugged closed.

 

"You haven't before," I pointed out.  There was a bit of silence on the other end of the line as I leaned my weight against the doorframe leading into the upper level bathroom.

 

"I'm sorry, Love, I can't hear you very well," she said, thankfully more quiet than before.  "Let me move someplace I can."  I heard more shuffling in the background, then a quiet 'John, will you stay with the bags?'.  John was my father's name.  My parents were traveling together again?  Usually their jobs took them in separate directions.

 

I held the phone away from my ear as a painful burst of noise sounded through the receiver.  No wonder Mum couldn't hear.  Then, all at once the noise ended.

 

"Alright, I can hear you now, Love," my mum's shrill voice came through the phone.  Obviously she hadn't heard my comment, so I let it slide.

 

"Okay," I answered simply.  When I said nothing more, a sigh came through from her end of the phone.

 

"I'm sorry, Love," she said, high voice now apologetic.  "It's been a while since we last came home."

 

Four months.  That's how long it'd been since I'd seen both my mum and my dad at the same time.  Sure, Mum and Dad had stopped in, but never at the same time and only for a few brief hours.  I hadn’t seen them together since Christmas, and truthfully, they didn’t even seem like parents - they seemed like friends who simply stopped by once in a while.

 

“Your dad and I are at the airport,” Mum continued after I didn’t say anything.

 

I rubbed the tips of my fingers, where the barely noticeable scabs from my paper cuts remained.  My parents in an airport didn’t surprise me.  They were always traveling place - last I’d heard from them, Mum was all the way over in Australia for a consulting job and Dad was on his way to Saudi Arabia to tie up some loose trading ends.

 

“We have another business trip together over in the United States,” she said quickly.  I heard the whirr of a blowdryer in the background, along with the flush of a toilet.

 

“Mum, are you in the restrooms?” I asked, disregarding the information she’d given me.

 

“Yes, I had to get out of the - are you even listening, Samantha?”

 

I resisted the urge to hiss a sigh.  “Yes, Mum.  You and Dad are going on a business trip over to the states.”

 

“Okay,” she confirmed my answer.  I could hear the goofy smile in her voice.  “Well, I thought after that…  We’d stop in for your birthday?”

 

I furrowed my eyebrows.  My parents, stopping in?  My _birthday_?

 

“What’s the date?” I asked her, pinching the phone between my shoulder and cheek to allow my good arm to shuffle through the outdated calendar sitting on the table next to the home phone.

 

“It’s the end of April, Love,” she laughed.  “Your birthday is in two weeks.”

 

I nearly collapsed.  “It’s almost May?”  The months had flown by, or so it seemed at the moment.

 

“Two weeks until May 11th - my baby is going to be eighteen!” she sobbed through the phone, but I knew the act was fake.  I’d never seen much of my mother, but I knew when she was faking emotions.  It happened a lot.

 

“Mum, I’m not that much older,” I grumbled through the phone.  “You don’t have to stop working for me.”

 

“I can’t miss my baby’s eighteenth birthday!” she squealed, making me wince and holding the phone back from my ear.

 

 _You’ve missed several other’s_ , I silently thought.  “If you have to work, I understand,” I said instead.  Truthfully, having my parents around was a bit awkward.  Maybe if they’d been here more, I wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable around them.

 

“Nonsense!” she laughed.  There was a rustling in the background noise, and I heard her mutter a few incoherent words.  Then, she was back on the line.  “Listen, Love,” she said.  “Our flight is being called.  I’ve got to go.  I hope you’ve been doing alright in school, I’ve been checking your grades online and they’re looking outstanding.”  There was another sound from the background, and a more urgent mumble from my mum.  “Sorry, Samantha,” she said abruptly.  “I’ve really got to run now.  We love you so much!  Be with you in two weeks!”

 

And then the line went dead.

 

I sighed and set the phone down on the table, rubbing my eyes and shuffling lazily back to my room.  As soon as I’d made it to the bed I groaned and collapsed onto the mattress.  My parents were coming home for my birthday.  I should’ve been happy, but I wasn’t.  No matter how much I may love my parents, I wanted them back just about as much as I wanted them gone.

 

It occurred to me that I hadn’t gotten the chance of talking to Dad.  I also hadn’t told them about my wrist - like I would have anyway.  It’d be better in the next week, as long as I did what the doctor had said.  Speaking of which…

 

I sat up and pulled at the end of the gauze on my wrist.  It peeled off of itself easily, and I tugged the rest off.  The roll that Dr. Phillips had given me rested on my bedside table, and I tossed the used bandage into the wastebasket next to my bed after grabbing it.  Slowly, I wrapped my wrist in the way that Dr. Phillips had shown me, careful not to get it to tight.  When I finished, I set the roll aside.  The clock caught my eye.

 

It was just after three-thirty, when school ended.  I’d slept for that long?  I shook my head.  I couldn’t have been.  Was I really that tired?

 

An abrupt knocking nearly scared me senseless.  I jumped about ten feet in the air, a gasp escaping my lips.  Okay, maybe I _was_ tired.  The knocking sounded again, and I tossed my legs over the edge of my bed.  First the phone, now the door?  It must be a package, my parents sent home things for me all the time.  And since Mum had called home not two minutes ago, a delivery would make sense.

 

I trotted down the stairs, using my good arm to hold on to the railing.  I sighed as I glanced in the hall mirror.  I looked about as tired as I felt.  Oh well.  I’d never seen the same delivery man twice, so I doubt he’d remember my appearance anyway.  So I turned around and threw the door open.  But when I did, my eyes widened in painful surprise.

 

It wasn’t a package resting on my steps — it was Niall.


	15. Fifteen.

My eyes widened involuntarily.  I opened my mouth but no words came out.  His presence surprised me - I wasn’t one for surprises.

 

“Samm,” he spoke first.  His expression was a mix of relief and irritation.

 

Irritation wasn’t good, especially when coming from Niall.

 

“Erm - Niall,” I said, taking a subconscious step back into the house.  I moved my hand behind the door.  “What are you doing here?”

 

I saw the corners of his mouth twitch down.  “You seem edgy.”

 

He didn’t answer my question, but I didn’t feel like pressing further in his seemingly annoyed state.  But he was right - after my wrist, the talk with my mum, and now this…  I was shaken up - edgy.  And when he made a subtle move forward, both the memory and emotional stress of our embrace came back to me.

 

I took a hasty step back.  Flashes of the worst side of Niall appeared in my mind - all of the bruises that’d accumulated, the tears, the cuts, the scars, the scramble for control.  All of the things that hadn’t been a problem in the past week had seemed so small until now.  As his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration I took another step back, glancing down and allowing my eye to catch on the nearly faded bruises on my right arm in the shape of fingertips - Niall’s.

 

“Are you okay?” Niall asked, taking a step toward me.

 

My eyes widened and I drew in a breath.  “I - I’m fine,” I stuttered.  Almost out of instinct, my body shifted more behind the door, putting a material object between myself and the boy who’d been my tormenter for the longest time.  Funny, almost, how one little facial expression had enticed so much anxiety out of me.  Maybe it wasn’t just because of Niall that I was this stressed.

 

“You don’t seem like it,” Niall raised his eyebrow.  Lightly, his hand rested against the wood of the door as he stepped through the doorframe.

 

I tried to take a subtle deep breath as my heart began to race.  I was too afraid of getting hurt for the second time today.  I was too afraid of Niall right now.  But the memory of Niall controlling his anger suddenly appeared fresh in my mind, and I found purchase to allow my breathing, at least, to stay steady.  He’d gotten better in these past few days.  I just had to keep reminding myself that - and at the same time remind myself that he was unpredictable.

 

“Samm?” he asked, wringing his hands.  “Are you sure you’re fine?”

 

Something in his tone threw me off.  It sounded like…  Concern?  Empathy?  Whatever it was, it was so entirely genuine that I gave him a small smile.

 

“I am,” I said quietly.  My heart started to slow down to its normal pace.  “I’m fine.”  And then I said something on a courteous impulse.  “Would you like some tea?”

 

Niall smiled.  “Sure.”

 

 

\---

 

 

“Can I ask why you weren’t there today?” Niall asked from the counter as I poured a bit of tea into a glass for both of us.

 

I bit my tongue.  Was a strained wrist enough reason to miss a whole day of classes?  Maybe it would’ve been better just to tell him I hadn’t felt well this morning.  But would he believe that when he saw the gauze around my arm?  Or had he already seen it anyway?  I could probably take the bandage off.  But then again, my wrist might be bruised or swollen by now.

 

I simply shrugged, my back facing him.  “I didn’t feel well,” I told him.

 

He cleared his throat and I winced.  “Sorry to hear that.”  I nearly let out a sigh of relief when there was no mention of my wrist.  But why in the world was I so worried about it?  A strained wrist wasn’t something to freak out about.  Especially when Niall probably didn’t even care in the first place.  Even so, I felt as if there was something to worry about with it.  But _why?_

 

I sighed and picked up his glass, then walked over to him at the counter.  And when I set it down in front of him, I barely had time to react before I felt his strong hand around my bandaged wrist.

 

_Oh.  That’s why_.

 

I let out an odd noise, something that sounded much like a strangled cat.  Though I’d taken pain medication, the pressure wrapped around the central part of my wrist sent a stab of pain up my arm - I swore I felt the pain tingle in my teeth.

 

I ripped my arm away from his grasp, backing away and clutching my injured wrist.  My teeth ground together, trying to hold back the pained tears that suddenly sprang to my eyes.  It had probably swelled a bit, along with being sore.  Nonetheless, it hurt.

 

“Oh my God,” I breathed, caressing my arm as I walked out of the kitchen.  I rubbed my eyes as I attempted to control my reaction, not having the awareness to care as Niall whispered profanities and followed after me in my pursuit of the living room.

 

I shuffled to the middle of the room and crouched down, resting on my haunches while I let my forehead fall to my knees.  Breathing deeply, I stayed in my position until the throbbing in my wrist was bearable.  I stayed in this position a while longer though, mostly cursing myself for letting Niall in in the first place — letting him into my head.  But I finally looked up, finding Niall sitting in front of me.

 

His legs were crossed, shins exposed by the khaki shorts he wore.  His torso was covered by a blue polo.  Niall’s hands wrung nervously and his eyes were concerned, giving me the impression that the pain inflicted was unintentional — that was a first.

 

I sniffed back the tears I hadn’t let fall, rubbing my left eye and blowing out a long breath before shifting to the same fashion as Niall.  Carefully, I rested my right wrist against my upper thigh, almost subconsciously away from Niall.  He winced as he saw my actions, though I didn’t know why.  Wasn’t he used to inflicting pain upon me?

 

“I’m sorry,” he said.  His tone was flat.  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

 

I furrowed my eyebrows, glancing down at my wrist.  The gauze was still in place, covering from up around my thumb to down below the injury.  Did it not seem to him that I was injured?  No, I was sure the gauze gave it away.  Despite my urge to be terribly sarcastic with him, I knew that would probably anger him.

 

“Then why did you?” I asked instead.  It was a harmless question, but I saw his jaw tense anyway.  I didn’t react - he’d been able to control his anger the past two times I’d set him off.  It was a chance I was taking, but I was tired of being anxious every time I felt Niall was growing angry.  Once he saw this, I thought I caught an odd emotion crossing his face — shame.  I had no reaction to this either.  I was tired and I’d had a bad day.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, quieter this time.  “I wasn’t thinking.  I just wanted an explanation, and I didn’t know you were hurt that badly.”

 

I clucked my tongue.  “Well, now you know.”  I was silent for a long time.  After a few minutes of just staring blankly at each other, Niall huffed and rubbed his face with his hands.

 

“This wasn’t what I came over here to do,” he mumbled, then pulled his knees to his chest.

 

My eyebrows furrowed.  “What did you come here for?”

 

He sighed.  “I…  Well…  I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

 

I blinked.  Twice.  “Wh—What?”  I was so taken aback by his statement that my brain nearly shut down.  I’d gone through a lot today and it seemed like the more that piled on, the more distant I got.

 

Niall smiled wryly.  “We didn’t start out right, Samm.”

 

My chest tightened at the way he let my name ring out from his mouth.  The ends of my fingers started to tingle, and I felt an unconventional blush creep across my cheeks.  Beside him making the understatement of a life time, I was outright stunned to hear him talk this way.  How could any person change this much in not even a week?  The transition was unsettling, and I grew wearier of him.

 

“No,” I said quietly.  “No, we didn’t.”

 

I averted my eyes, staring at something to my far left.  In my peripherals I saw Niall look down and rub his blonde head while he let out a long breath.  “I think we need to start over.  Completely.”

 

My head whipped back around to him, eyes wide.  What did he mean?  What was starting over supposed to help with?  Did he think that it would allow me to forget the past - be any less afraid… no, cautious... around him?  I couldn’t just turn around and erase the scars that littered the space right below my chest.  No, the bruises wouldn’t go away that easily.  Neither would the memories, or even the lingering anger still inside of him.  Or would starting over do that for him?

 

“I-” I began, but Niall interrupted with a rushed explanation.

 

“-I know what I’ve done is wrong.  I know that with all that’s in me.  I just want you to let me prove myself to you.  There are a lot of things about me that you don’t know, and a lot of things that I don’t know about you.  Changing something isn’t going to fix it.  Getting rid of all the thoughts of this will.”

 

My left arm was brought up to my face, rubbing my tired eyes.  My chest tightened at every word, stunned at the sudden and complete change in Niall.  How was this even possible?

 

“Niall, I-”

 

“Please hear me out,” he said, voice desperate.  “I need you to have an open mind.   I want to forget all of what’s happened - the tutoring, the project, everything.  We can start over.”

 

I bit my lip.  I had no idea why, but it felt like a wave of butterflies flew through my stomach and chest, scattering my thoughts.  Part of me wanted to take Niall’s offer and give him a chance to apologize; but the other part of me wanted to forget Niall altogether, to not see his intimidating face again.

 

“I — I don’t — I don’t know,” I stuttered, rubbing my forehead.  “I don’t think I ca—”

 

“—Please.”  I looked up to meet his eyes, finding them completely filled with guilt and remorse.  Something within me swayed more toward his offer, wanting to stop the emotional trouble caused within him.  “Please, let me make this up.  In a setting other than our homes or at some dumb party.”

 

My mind flashed back to Keaton’s party, where that girl had jumped on Niall before he could even blink.  For some reason this angered me and it was all I could do not to shout, ‘Yes!’, and just be done with it.  But caution had long since become one of my survival antics in spite of Niall.  There wasn’t usually a moment around Niall that I didn’t have some kind of guarded attitude.

 

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, cursing myself seconds later.  This wasn’t a good idea.  It never had been.

 

I saw the corners of Niall’s mouth tip up.  “I was thinking something like the park.  The one downtown?  It’s quiet, and the breeze feels nice.”

 

I rubbed my eyes again.

 

“What are you planning for us to do?” I asked, still shocked that he had asked.

 

“Talk,” he said quietly.  “Just talk.  I wanted to go somewhere that school or friends don’t matter.”

 

I closed my eyes as I brushed a stray piece of hair behind my ear.  Was it a good idea to do this?  Even after I’d been sure that Niall was different now, he’d shown that even a small thing could irritate him; he’d shown that he’d hurt me - whether intentional or not - if he wanted to know something I wasn’t telling him.  Was it smart to go with him, to open up again like I had the night before?  His face told me that he was sincere, but our history told me that his mood could change almost instantaneously.  Was I willing to take the risk after I’d been given a choice?  I could avoid him whenever possible, or I could take this chance to try to understand him.  Either one was unsettling for some reason, but the former looked less inviting.  Was I really about to willingly subject myself to more possible tormenting?

 

Instead of listening to my common sense, my mouth grew a mind of its own.

 

“Okay,” I said quietly.

 

This was the second time in the past three days that I’d allowed myself to spend extra time with Niall.  Maybe I was so used to succumbing to him that it felt wrong to deny him.

 

The smile on his face both sent a warmth through my chest and made me want to cringe.  “Tomorrow then?” he asked.  I nodded.  “Thank you,” he breathed.

 

I didn’t know if I wanted to thank myself or gouge my eyes out.  So I said a simple, “Okay,” and settled for that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*PLEASE DO LEAVE COMMENTS TELLING ME WHAT YOU THINK!!!!  I REALLY APPRECIATE IT!!!!!*

Love Goes Out.xx


	16. Sixteen

I groaned and collapsed into the sofa, tired and impossibly stressed from a long day of classes.  My wrist stayed gauzed, but luckily I’d had a long sleeved shirt on hand so I didn’t have to stare at the reminder of my clumsiness all day.  I sat in my car to eat lunch again, just as I always had.  I had a bit of trouble focusing in my classes, and found it most difficult in physics when I had to go over a worksheet I missed yesterday with Niall’s repeated glances.

 

I’d managed to avoid speaking with him for a majority of physics class, but eventually I’d had no choice but to respond when he approached me directly.

 

“Samm,” he’d caught my uninjured wrist, and I wondered if it had been because he’d actually remembered that my other hurt.

 

I turned to meet his eyes.  I rose an eyebrow, flicking my eyes to his hand clasped around my wrist in hopes that he’d see and let go.  When he didn’t, I sighed and squared my shoulders, trying to make him understand that this would’ve looked very odd to someone just passing by.  Niall didn’t seem affected by this.

 

“Do you remember our conversation yesterday?” he’d asked.  I nodded and a smile appeared on his face.  “Okay.  So I’ll be over around five, okay?”

 

I sucked in a breath and took my bottom lip between my teeth.  I didn’t know whether the flutter in my stomach was my wariness of the whole situation or my anticipation of what was going to happen.  Would Niall finally be apologizing for what he’d put me through for so long?  I knew he’d tried to before, but it didn’t really feel as if it had transitioned to normal with us.  Then again, after all of these months of what he’d done to me…  What really _was_ normal?

 

I gave him a quick ‘okay’ anyway, only so I didn’t have to worry about talking to him anymore.  I just wanted to get through one more class and go home so I could nap — which is exactly what I did.

 

I woke up from the alarm I’d set on my phone.  I pulled my head from the throw pillow on the sofa and fumbled with my cell before finally turning it on silent and heaving it across the room.  I shoved my face back into the pillow and groaned.  It was about four-thirty.  Only half an hour until I had to see Niall again.  I didn’t want to, but at the same time I felt I had to.  I wasn’t ready to forgive Niall for real, but I needed to.

 

Whether I wanted to accept it or not, for some reason Niall had changed in the past week.  This transition was for the better.  If I couldn’t bring myself to believe it, then I would hold the constant fear of the other side of Niall over my head.  I had to do this; not only because Niall had asked it of me.

 

I took a deep breath and pushed myself from the sofa, sliding my feet to the floor and standing slowly.  My vision was blurry with a sleepy haze, and my movements the same.  Sluggish was the only way to describe myself as I stumbled through the kitchen to the hallway that held the staircase.  I then took a deep breath and began pulling myself up the stairs.

 

By the time I’d managed to make it up the stairs without injuring myself, I’d wasted ten minutes.  Biting my lip, I opened my closet and grabbed an outfit (<http://www.polyvore.com/park/set?id=91673042>) I hadn’t worn in a long time.  It was a blue and white-striped jumper with a string that tied around my waist.  I slipped into this quickly, along with a pair of tan sandals.  The mirror across the room caught my eye and I sighed heavily.  My hair was a mess from sleeping on the couch, and I didn’t have the time nor the patience to do anything fancy with it.

 

I gritted my teeth and brought a stool over to the mirror, sitting down with a few hair ties and several bobby pins.  Though it was hard on my wrist, I convinced myself that I could create a french braid down the side of my head, tying it off in a bun and securing my fly-aways with the pins.  When I decided it looked okay I picked a simple white headband from my desk and put it on.

 

My stomach groaned suddenly, and I became very aware that I was terribly hungry.  I grumbled my frustration and snagged a pair of blue sun glasses from my bed, then hurried downstairs and into the kitchen.  The glasses rested atop my head as I glanced at the clock on the wall.  I had about ten minutes — just enough time to grab a quick snack and get my thoughts in order.

 

I picked up a packet of peanut crackers and stuffed one in my mouth as I sat down at the counter.  I was almost relieved that I could barely hear myself think over the crunching of the crackers in my mouth.  But I could still manage to listen to my almost involuntary thoughts of Niall.

 

What was this going to be like?  Niall had sounded like he had a plan for the evening but I was unsure of the situation.  What was his idea of an apology?  A simple ‘I’m sorry‘ — a more complex explanation?  Truthfully, I didn’t think just an apology would permanently settle the turning in my stomach whenever Niall appeared, or even crossed my mind.  One week of different wasn’t going to fix several months of what I could only describe as ‘normal’.

 

But like I’d told myself, some part of me felt obligated to start over with Niall.  It wasn’t that _his_ arguments were persuasive — it was that _my_ _own_  were.  I didn’t want to delve any further into it.  Even just leaving it simply was a little overwhelming.  One week ago I would’ve given anything to just escape Niall.  Now I was _trying_  to spend time with him.

 

I shook my head and stuffed the last cracker into my mouth before standing to discard the wrapper.  Glancing at the clock again, I decided that I had just enough time to brush the food from my teeth.  I grabbed my phone and jogged up the stairs, then hurried into the bathroom.  As I was rinsing my mouth my phone vibrated on the counter, signaling I had received a message.  I finished quickly and set my toothbrush down, then read the message.

 

It was from Niall, saying he’d just left his house and would be over in a few minutes.  My heart fluttered for a moment, but I managed to stifle the panic I was used to experiencing.  I couldn’t act as unconfident as I felt in front of Niall — not anymore.  If starting over was what we were trying to do, then I swore then and there that no matter what I was thinking I would try to pretend like I’d just met him.  For Niall’s sake — for _my_ sake.

 

I rubbed my eyes, feeling sluggish again.  Leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, I sighed and closed my eyes.  How did Niall feel about all of this?  I knew he wasn’t doing this just for me — he was never one to practice selflessness when it came to me.  But what was Niall receiving from this?

 

I jumped when I heard the doorbell ring.  Quickly recovering and clenching my teeth, I grabbed my phone and trotted down the staircase.  My feet halted when I stood directly in front of the door.  My nerves made it nearly impossible to reach my free hand up to the doorknob.  When I finally managed, I was afraid that Niall might have left.  I quickly dismissed the thought, though, knowing that Niall doesn’t usually stop until he attains what he desires.

 

I felt numb as I turned the knob and swung the door open slowly.  My jaw clenched tighter as I took in the blonde boy standing at my front door.  His attire was different than usual, opting for a blue-and-red plaid shirt and brown shorts ending at his knees instead of the usual polo and tan shorts.  Unlike myself, Niall wore a smile on his expression.

 

He took my form in, glancing at my outfit before looking back up at my face.  When he caught wind of my expression his grin faltered, and I immediately felt bad.  I had said I’d try to start over, but I wasn’t showing him that.  I quickly put on a smile, and as painted as it was, it was something.

 

“Hi,” he said.

 

I nodded.  “Hi.”

 

There was a moment of awkward silence.  Niall shoved his hands in his pockets while I fiddled with the gauze on my wrist.  His eyes flicked from my face, to my wrist, to the ground, then back up at me.  My gaze shifted from his placid face to somewhere behind him.  I didn’t know what to say.

 

Niall finally cleared his throat.  “Are you ready to go?”

 

I ran through my head a list of what I needed; phone, shoes, an extra hair tie, a few pounds.  I had everything in the left pocket of my jumper — everything except a bit of confidence.

 

“Yes,” I told him nonetheless.  “I’m ready.”

 

 

\---

 

 

Niall parked the car along the sidewalk, driver’s side facing the quiet street.  There weren’t many people here, since the park wasn’t visited much during the work day.  The sky was light, a few puffy clouds making their way across the sky.  I chewed the inside of my cheek as I scanned the park, a relatively flat expanse filled with colorful flowers and the occasional tree.

 

I hadn’t even noticed Niall’s withdrawal from the vehicle until his door slammed shut.  I blinked and unfastened my seatbelt as he jogged around the car, then reached for the door — only to be cut off by Niall grabbing it for me.

 

He pulled the car door open and stepped aside, allowing me room to climb out.  I paused, surprised.  My eyes flashed up to his and he smiled softly.  This caused me to avert my gaze and tuck stray hair that had fallen from my braid back behind my headband as my face warmed.  I held tightly to my cell phone as I stepped from the car, feet planting on the sidewalk in front of Niall.  He closed the car door and pushed the button on his keys to lock it.  That’s when I noticed the bag resting on his shoulder.

 

“This way,” he said before I could ask any questions.  He pointed toward a path that lead throughout the park and began walking that way.  I followed along quietly,  sneaking glances at the bag Niall held at his side.  It was a good sized bag, large enough to make me wonder exactly what it held; but I didn’t ask.

 

We walked for a short while, our shoes against the stone path the only sound between us.  It was a calm day, not much wind.  Fairly warm for this time of year.  The flowers could actually find reason to bloom.

 

“Here,” Niall’s words broke through my thoughts.

 

I stopped beside him as he set his bag on the ground next to his feet.  He unzipped the main compartment and pulled out a folded blanket, blandly colored with black plaid.  I cocked my head to the side as he spread it out about fifteen feet from the path in a small gap in the flower bushes.  It was bulky and covered about ten square feet.  When he finished he sat down on one corner of the blanket, pulling his bag along side him.

 

“Please, sit,” Niall said, patting the blanket.

 

I nodded and crouched, settling myself in the corner opposite him.  I pulled my things out of my pockets and set them beside me, then criss-crossed my legs.  My eyes flicked over to Niall’s face.  I found him looking at me, deep in thought.  I felt my face warm again and cursed myself as I looked away.  I studied the grass next to the edge of the blanket for a few second before I heard Niall clear his throat.

 

“Samm,” he said.  I raised my head to meet his gaze and this time it was him turning away.  “I brought you out here to start over.”  Though he wasn’t watching me, I nodded.

 

“I know,” I said in response.  My voice sounded strange, as if I hadn’t used it in days.

 

Niall nodded as well, but continued to keep his eyes on the blanket in front of him.  “But I don’t think I should ask that of you without apologizing.”

 

His hand reached for his bag.  He dug around in it for a few seconds before pulling out a plastic bag about the span of my hand.  I cocked my head to the side as he reached his hand into it.  When he withdrew, his fingers held a necklace.

 

It was a glass pendant in the shape of a heart that hung from a silver chain.  The sun shining through it made it bright, casting a rainbow on the blanket beneath it.  My eyes widened as I realized what a necklace like this must cost.

 

Niall shifted on the blanket, scooting over to take up the space on my left.  He held up the necklace, allowing me to get a better look at it.  It really was a beautiful piece of jewelry.

 

“This is for you,” Niall said, criss-crossing his legs like mine and watching the pendant like a child in a candy store.  “To show you how sorry I am; because I am so, so sorry for everything.”

 

My jaw went slack.  “No,” I automatically said.  I was surprised at my own voice.  I was caught so off guard at myself that I couldn’t bite my tongue.  “I can’t have this.”

 

Niall’s expression crumpled and my chest clenched, but I didn’t take my words back.  His hand dropped to his lap, as did the pendant he held.  His baby blue gaze finally reached mine and I bit my lower lip.

 

“What?” he asked, sounding baffled.

 

“I—I can’t,” I stuttered.  “It’s too — it’s too expensive.”

 

He shook off my words.  “Of course it’s not.  Please, Samm.”

 

“No, Niall,” I shook my head.  “I can’t take it.  It’s fine.”

 

Niall held up the necklace again, shifting a small bit closer to me.  “Please take it.  Here, I’ll help put it on.”

 

“Niall, no,” I said again.  “Stop.  Take this back.”

 

I saw his jaw tense and I hesitated.  “Please, Samm.  Let me make this up to you.”

 

And suddenly, questions that I didn’t even know I had flooded into my mind.  _Why is Niall doing this for me?  Why would he bring me out here?  Why would he prepare everything like this?_   There were so many in my head that I couldn’t stop myself from speaking to make room for more.

 

“Why, Niall?” I asked abruptly.

 

His brow furrowed.  “Why, what?”

 

I tensed, but the words had already left me.  That one question could go so many ways, but I knew what direction I needed to take it; I’d just never had the courage to let it out.

 

“Why all of this?” I asked, gesturing to everything — the blanket, the bag, the necklace, the park.  “Why take me out here?  Why the necklace?  Why the apology, Niall?”  And I still couldn’t stop myself.  “You sure as hell haven’t considered me worth your time before; now you’re trying to give me something?”

 

My eyes widened and my fists clenched.  I winced at the pain in my wrist, but was too stunned to pay attention to it.  My gaze was trained on Niall’s face, eyes wide as if to mirror mine.  I mentally kicked myself for noticing how innocent he looked, incapable of bringing upon months and months of hazing.

 

I was tense beyond belief.  My body was rigid, my attention on gauging how Niall could possibly react to my accusatory questions.  I was watching for any change, any subtle indication that the bully in him was returning to the surface.  But the change that occurred was absolutely nothing like I’d expected.

 

His whole expression softened, though I recognized the tension in his posture.  Something set in his eyes that I couldn’t read, and I sat looking back at him for the longest time.  And then, for the thousandth time in two minutes, I was caught incredibly off guard.

 

In an instant, the three feet between us became nonexistent.

 

I had no time to react, no time to pull away before Niall’s face was but an inch from my own, closer than I’d ever been to any one person.  My eyes were wide as I felt his arm reach around to rest his hand on the back of my neck.  His touch was warm, but a chill ran up my spine.  His breath was hot on my face, the skin of my nose pricking.  My mind went numbingly blank and my jaw went slack.

 

And then his lips were on mine.

 

 

 

 

**Thank you all so much for reading!  I will try to update once more before Christmas, but know that I will be taking that off and not writing.  Thank you all for the support and comments, and I would like to encourage you to give me more feedback!**

**Love Goes Out.xx**


	17. Seventeen.

_“No one will ever want you,” he sneered, waving my off like a fly._

 

_The only thing I could do was shut my mouth and take his criticism.  After all, wasn’t he right?  No one would want me, not after the name that Niall has made for me.  Then again, wasn’t this my fault in the first place?_

 

_“You’re too stuck up,” he continued to rave.  “You think you’re better than everyone else.”_

 

_I stood by the wall furthest from the door, winching with every insult.  My eyes watered, but I kept my tears hidden behind my eyelids.  Niall paced in front of me, face nearly beet red with anger.  I didn’t even know what I’d done this time.  I’d just given him the answer to another question — he must’ve gotten it wrong._

 

_My teeth clenched as Niall began to mention my parents and their lack of discipline.  My parents had always been a touchy subject, and he knew that — he fed off of it.  But whenever it came to this point, I zoned out to avoid growing angry.  That had gotten me no where before._

 

_“Are you listening to me?” Niall hissed, breaking my state of unfocus._

 

_My eyes grew wide.  “I — uh — yes,” I scrambled for words, but it wasn’t enough._

 

_I cried out and shut my eyes tight as Niall spun on me, shoving me back against the wall.  My back hit first, then my head followed with a dull_ thud. _I gasped as my vision went terribly out of focus and pain shot through to my forehead, and I sank to a crouch.  My hands flew to the back of my head as a tear slipped from my eye.  I put my head between my knees in an attempt to seem small, just as Niall wanted me to feel._

 

_Niall only scoffed as he backed away.  “Weak,” he spat at me.  I closed my eyes tighter, hearing his footsteps grow distant on the carpeted floor and finally the sound of the door opening and closing._

 

_I didn’t dare look up.  Tears squeezed from my eyes and I let out a small sob.  My head throbbed and my fingers tangled gently in my hair as I wondered how this had gotten so out of control.  It was as if this all was planned, just to make my life miserable._

 

_Niall was so forceful, so violent in everything he did toward me.  Every touch was meant to bring pain — every jab, shove, punch; was successful.  I was miserable, in pain, and utterly defeated._

 

_And in the middle of that school classroom, I began to weep._

 

 

 

 

If I’d had room to gasp, I would have.  My first instinct was to brace for the pain, but when none came…  I didn’t know how to function.

 

All I felt was Niall’s hot breath on my face, his warm lips soft on mine.  His hand on my neck sent a shiver through me, but I didn’t react.  I didn’t understand this kind of touch, this kind of display of affection.  It was so new, so… different.

 

A jolt went through my body as Niall’s lips began to change position, breaking away from mine for a fraction of a second before replacing themselves.  If his movements were at all cautious before, they were not now.  Niall began to lead the kiss, take control of the situation — I began to panic.

 

Niall’s touch had always been so aggressive.  I’d known what to expect.  But now, I didn’t know anything.  I was out of what little control I’d had before, and this realization terrified me.

 

My mind restarted — I realized what exactly was happening.  Niall was kissing me.  The same Niall who had hated me; the same Niall who had assured me that I would never be loved, would never succeed in anything.  How would it make sense for him to show this kind of affection toward me?

 

And then I had a thought — he must be messing with my mind for the hell of it.  I had to stop this.  I had to leave, _now._

 

My hands discovered the ability to move again, and I planted them firmly on Niall’s chest before shoving hard against him.

 

He made a noise of surprise before being forced away.  My lips tingled and I touched them in surprise, feeling the absence of his kiss.  I blinked once, twice, before snapping out of it and scrambling to my feet.  Niall sat in shock as I stooped to snatch up my phone and hair ties and stuffed them into my pockets.  It wasn’t until I began to walk away that Niall said anything.

 

“Samm!” he shouted as I paced away, walking as fast as I could manage down the path, opposite the way back to his car.  “Samm, wait!”

 

It took a split second for me to decide that I could survive walking home, since everything here was connected by a series of sidewalks.  And when I heard Niall’s footstep behind me on the path, it took another split second to decide that I could outrun him.

 

My feet quickly built up to a sprint.  I ran as fast as I could — it seemed like I’d been running from a lot of things recently.  All I knew was that I needed to get away from Niall, if only for a short while.

 

“Samm!” I heard Niall shout, voice more distant now that I’d been running for a good twenty seconds.  “Samm, please wait!”

 

My teeth ground together as I ducked my head down to run faster.  The stone path beneath my feet soon turned into concrete as it transitioned back into downtown, and I rounded a sharp corner to get out of Niall’s view.

 

I slowed up, my breath coming short and heavy.  Adrenaline was pounding through my body, encouraging me to keep running, but I couldn’t.  It wasn’t just Niall messing with me now — it was my own mind.  So many questions and thoughts were being thrown every which way, so many distractions.

 

I groaned and covered my face with my hands, trying to breathe deeply.  I was so confused, so distraught over one little thing that Niall did.  _Little_.  I tried to laugh at myself, but the noise came out as a hysterical cackle.  _Nothing_  about what Niall had just done was _little_.

 

My hands fell away from my face and I checked the intersection.  I sighed, realizing that home was about thirty blocks away.  It was doable, but it meant about a half an hour walk.  But what other choice did I have?  I couldn’t go back and find Niall — knowing him, he’d probably already left.

 

I shook my head and tried to flush my mind of Niall.  I had to think of something — _anything —_ else.  My feet began to move again, this time at a walking pace in the direction I needed to go.  I let out a long breath, clearing my mind.  After twenty steps, it finally went blank — for about three seconds.

 

It wasn’t my mind that held the reminder of Niall.  It was my lips, still tingling.  My brow furrowed and I raised my fingers to touch my mouth, but nothing was there except the feeling of Niall’s kiss.  My heart fluttered in response to the feeling and I inhaled sharply at the unfamiliar sensation.

 

I hugged myself as chills ran up my spine, goosebumps forming along my arms.  What was happening to me?  Should I not be annoyed, even disgusted with what Niall had just done?  Why was nothing going the way it should?  Why couldn’t well enough just be left alone?  Why couldn’t my mind match the feeling in my chest?  Er — the other way around.

 

An odd sounding laugh left my throat, and I blinked in surprise.  Laughing was only my response to overwhelming stress, whether physical or emotional.  Could this have pushed the limits?

 

I blinked to find that my eyes had started watering.  Yes, this had pushed me over the edge.  Niall had finally found a way to toy with my mind the most — make up for everything in my life that’d been lacking.

 

I’d been lacking affection.

 

 

\---

 

 

Warm water rushed over my head and down my back and thick steam filled my lungs.  My weary hands reached up to rinse the conditioner out of my hair as I exhaled deeply.  My mind had nearly cleared from the long walk home.  I’d realized that I’d been assigned a small essay in literacy that seemed easy enough, since we only had tonight to complete it.  My attention had been on that since I’d stepped through the front door.

 

I winced as I went over the thin scab from my razor blade with soap.  My face contorted into a pained expression, but I barely paused to acknowledge it.  What was done was done.  I bore scars, I would attain more.  It was simple.

 

I finished up with my shower, rubbing my body dry with a towel that I wrapped around myself for the short walk to my bedroom.  My hair was drying quickly, as it always did, and I threw it up into a messy bun.  The towel around my body was replaced with an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants.

 

I pulled my computer into my lap as I collapsed onto my bed, bringing up a blank document template.  My fingers began to flow as I typed in the date and subject, then continued on to the body.

 

Whenever I wrote, I became lost in thought.  Whether it be fiction or nonfiction, I delved so far deep that even someone standing right in front of me, screaming my name, wouldn’t make even the smallest breakthrough.  It was the same case for reading, before I’d met Niall.  The last time I’d free read was during a study session with him about three months ago.  He’d gotten frustrated for some reason that I couldn’t remember, and—

 

I blinked several times, clearing my head of thoughts.  What was I doing?  I had work to do.

 

My eyes refocused on my computer screen and my fingers began to move again, this time a little more sluggish.  There was a pricking in my fingertips, a fluttering feeling in my chest.  My teeth ground together and I typed another sentence onto the page.  I tried to ignore whatever was going on, but as soon as the tingling in my lips returned, I knew I needed a proper distraction.

 

I set my computer aside and strode over to my closet, then began to put it back in order from my hurry to get ready earlier.  This thought made my head snap to attention —when Niall had asked me to come with him, had he planned to kiss me?

 

I grunted in frustration, pushing him from my mind.  Of course he had.  Niall only wanted to mess with me.  I was nothing but a game to him, and for some reason I was hurt by this thought.  Had I really thought that I meant something more to Niall?  I blinked.  Had Niall really meant something more to _me_?

 

Taking myself completely by surprise, I turned and punched the wall to my left with an angry cry.  My wrist gave; the wall didn’t.

 

With a gasp, I fell to my knees and caressed my throbbing wrist as my eyes watered.  The pain within my arm was dull, but horribly radiant.  My mouth hung open as a few tears slid down my face, leaving a trail as they left my eyes.  It didn’t take long for me to realize that my tears weren’t just for my physical pain — they were tears of frustration and hurt.

 

I turned myself so that I could lean against my wall, pulling my knees to my chest.  Staring straight ahead, I began to allow myself to sort through my feelings.  Again and again I tried to deny things, but I came up with no way to disprove them.  I sobbed, resting my forehead on my knees.

 

I knew three things for sure.  One, that Niall was dangerous and unpredictable; two, that something within me found the nerve to care for him; three, that I was a game, and therefore couldn’t mean much of anything to Niall.

 

I sat, curled up tightly, for a long time.  My tears pooled in my lap and soaked into my jumper.  All I could think of was Niall — his vibrant blue eyes, his blond hair that looked fine whether it was spiked or left shaggy, the way he laughed and let anything be overly funny.  But also the way he could be so intimidating, so hurtful, so oblivious to my insecurities.  How could I care for the latter?  How could I let that mean anything to me?

 

The doorbell suddenly rang throughout the house, making me jump.  My heart began to pound.  Niall could be at the door, waiting for me to open the door, and…  Who knows what he would do?  He’d done a variety of actions, and I’d gotten worse and worse at guessing what he’d do next.

 

I decided no to take any chances.  Instead, I climbed into my bed and covered myself with my sheets, curling into a tight ball and closing my eyes.  Crying took so much of my energy, and judging by how much I’d done it lately, I didn’t think I had much energy left.  But closing my eyes didn’t open myself to sleep.  It opened myself to thought and mental images.

 

Niall’s face, his lips so close to mine.  He hand resting on the back of my neck, his hot breath against my face.  I didn’t know what to think in the moment.  But now I knew exactly what to think.

 

My teeth clenched as I felt the memory of Niall’s lips against mine.  I knew that I should think that to Niall I was nothing; and somewhere deep down, I knew it.  But I didn’t want to accept it.  I didn’t think that I _could_.  How could Niall kiss me without meaning something?

 

It had been about ten minutes before I finally found the nerve to lift myself from my bed.  I sighed heavily, hesitantly making my way through the upstairs hallway and to the top of the stairs.  I could see through the windows by the door that no one was there, and I nearly turned around to walk back to my room when something caught my eye.

 

I squinted at a small box laid on my front porch, but from where I was I could only see the corner of it.  Biting my lip, I reluctantly allowed my legs to carry me down the stairs.  My hand slowly found the doorknob, turning it gently before opening the door.  I cast my eyes up and down my street and huffed when I saw no one outside, beside my neighbor out mowing his lawn.

 

I refocused my attention on the small box on my porch and knelt down to pick it up.  It was about the size of my palm with blue covering around the outside.  I cocked an eyebrow, reaching my other hand up to flip the lip open.  When my eyes rested on it’s contents, I gasped and my chest clenched.

 

Immediately my eyes began to water.  Denying the fact that Niall didn’t care for me became harder to do as I took the necklace he’d gotten me out of the box and held it tightly in my hand.

 

 

 

 

**Hello all!  I just want to let you know that I will not be posting over winter break.  It's a vacationing time for me, and I will kick up writing again the second it ends.  Please do leave comments, predictions, etc.  I love hearing from you all!  Thank you!**

**Love Goes Out.xx**


	18. Eighteen.

Niall wasn’t at school the next day.

 

It’s funny, but I could just tell by the atmosphere.  The kind of charisma he had when he was alone with me was astounding in contrast to the angry, malevolent boy that had hated me for so long.  Something I hadn’t noticed before — something that you could only pick out if you were paying attention.

 

I went through first period with ease.  My schedule had gotten switched around due to teacher work hours changing, but my classes after lunch were basically the same.  French, my first class, had always been natural for me, since I’d heard my parents speak a small amount over the phone on business calls and various work activities.  They’d taught me some, and the knowledge came in handy.  I had trigonometry next, another thing that came easy to me.  It was one of the subjects I focused on when Niall and I were working together.  Third period was filled by World History, something I didn’t care much for.  Fourth had become my free period, right before lunch.  I had found that going home and making lunch was nice, but for some reason I had brought it today.

 

I still sat in my car, like usual, but it didn’t feel like it always had.  I didn’t feel ridiculed anymore, not cast out because of who I was.  It felt almost normal — like this was the most normal thing that had happened to me in a while.  My chest rose and fell in a breath of relief.

 

I finished my sandwich and crackers that I had brought.  I hadn’t been too hungry lately.  Checking the time, I realized that I had twenty minutes until sixth period started.  Resting my lunch bag in the passenger’s seat, I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the headrest.  I rubbed my temples, feeling stressed without cause.

 

I was jolted out of silence by a knock on the passenger’s side window.  I inhaled sharply, startled by the abrupt noise.  My gaze flashed to the window and immediately my brow pulled together.  Keaton was staring back at me, looking worried.

 

I rolled down the window without pause, which might have been stupid looking back on it.  What if he just came to pick up where Niall had left off, since he wasn’t here today?  But Keaton had never given me trouble before, and I didn’t feel like giving him a reason to joke about my cowardice.

 

“Keaton?” I asked warily, eyeing him.

 

“Samm,” he replied, resting his hand on the window frame.  “I’m glad I caught you.”

 

“I’ve been here all day.”  I shifted in my seat to face him, uncertain of his presence.

 

He huffed.  “You know what I mean.”  Keaton glanced around the parking lot for a second before tapping his foot and taking a deep breath.  “Can I sit?”

 

I nodded, unlocking the car door for him.  He opened the door and slid into the passenger’s seat, closing it after him.  I had barely reached for the lever when Keaton began rolling up his window.  He seemed a little nervous, but I didn’t know why.

 

“What’s going on?” I asked hesitantly, pulling my feet up to the seat and resting my knees against my chest.

 

Keaton chewed the inside of his cheek, watching my face as if debating saying anything.  I suddenly felt self-conscious, curled up in the driver’s seat like a child would be sat.  I put my legs down and set my hands in my lap.

 

“Niall doesn’t handle rejection well,” he started.

 

I blinked at him.

 

Keaton hissed a sigh and rubbed his forehead.  “I know how that may sound to you.”  I didn’t think he did.  “Because I know how he treated you.”

 

My jaw clenched as my fists did.  His eyes flashed to my hands and his expression faltered.  I saw pity in his face, and I sighed visibly.

 

“But you have to understand that it isn’t entirely his fault,” Keaton continued, rubbing his head.

 

I almost scoffed.  “Not his fault?  He’s the only one that seems to treat me the way he does.”

 

Keaton winced.  “There are things that effect the way he acts around everyone.  You’re not the only one he’s thrown a fist at.”  His voice faded off, as if he were afraid of hurting me.  “Given, his response is horrendous,  But he has a hard time controlling himself.”  His foot began tapping, making his leg bob up and down.  “Think about when your mind tells you to do something in the spur of the moment, right?  Well, Niall’s head is as good as screaming at him.”

 

My brow pulled together at the analogy, but I nodded.  What did that even mean?  That Niall couldn’t find the resistance to ignore his impulses?

 

“And when he’s with you,” Keaton started again.  “He has even less control.”

 

A warm feeling burned in my chest, but I didn’t know if it was good or bad.  When even my toes curled in defense, I assumed it was bad.

 

“So what he does is my fault?” I spat, sounded a lot more bitter than I’d intended.

 

“No!” Keaton exclaimed, his expression shocked.  “That’s not what I’m saying at all.  I’m just trying to get across that Niall’s emotions come and go stronger than yours or mine.”

 

“I don’t understand,” I shook my head and rubbed my temple.  My hair fell around my face as I looked down at my feet, and I must’ve looked distraught because I felt Keaton put a hesitant hand on my arm.

 

My head lifted to look at him, and he pulled his hand away.  “I think you should give him another chance.”

 

My teeth clenched.  Though I knew I had feelings for Niall, I was so defensive.  I was sure that he was trying to use it against me, and that’s what hurt.  How many chances had I given Niall?  How many had he completely blown?

 

“Why would you ask me to do that?”  I studied his face.  I took a deep breath and held out my arm, the one that held the fading bruises from Niall’s fingertips that I hadn’t bothered to cover today.  “After all of this, why would you ask me to give him a chance?”

 

Keaton winced, and I knew I’d thrown up a good front.  I had no obligation to allow Niall a reprieve.  Keaton sucked in a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.  “Because I know that he feels something for you.”

 

The punch-in-the-gut feeling that I got told me I wasn’t expecting that one.

 

“And,” he continued, “I can tell that you might feel the same way about him.”

 

My eyes widened, then narrowed.  “Why would you think that?  How could you possibly pull that from me?”  He was right, but I wasn’t about to give up my argument.  I hadn’t had the opportunity to counter Niall — or even one of his friends.

 

“You wouldn’t have gone with him to accept his apology the other day,” he said.  I nearly gasped in surprise.  “Yes, I know about that.  Niall tells me a lot of things.”  Keaton glanced out the windshield at a couple of students walking out of the school entrance.  “I know he tried to make a move on you and you ran.”  My face grew warm and I hid behind my hair.

 

“Shouldn’t that be your hint that I don’t feel anything toward him?” I asked quietly.  My mouth began to tingle and I bit my lower lip to try to stop the feeling.

 

“No,” he answered.  “You wouldn’t be wearing the necklace he gave you if you didn’t think of him as more than a friend.”

 

My gaze flashed to him, my eyes wide.  I reached up to touch my neck and a small curse left my throat as my hand touched a cold metal chain.  I’d put it on last night and fallen asleep.  I must’ve forgotten to take it off before I left for school.  Keaton had thrown a good point, and I was embarrassed.  I lifted another attempt at diverting the truth.

 

“He’s hardly my friend,” I muttered, almost incoherently.

 

I heard Keaton huff another sigh as my gaze dropped back to the floor.  “Why can’t you just let him in?”  His tone was exasperated, and along with his choice of words, I suddenly became aggravated again.

 

“Why can’t I let him in?” I said through gritted teeth.  “Did you really ask me that question?  You said you know how he treats me.  I’m beginning to think that you don’t.”  I lifted my head to meet his eyes, and he immediately looked away.  He was embarrassed.

 

“I can bet that you don’t know,” I continued bitterly, “that every day I tutor him here, I walk out of those front doors in tears, hoping that no one will see me.  You probably don’t know what words he’s used to beat me down, or even the physical ways he’s beaten me down.  You probably don’t know that because of him, I hurt myself, because the only thing I can seem to control anymore is the pain I inflict upon myself.  You don’t know how many times I’ve debated ending my life, or how many times Niall has encouraged me to do so — and the only thing that has kept me going is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Niall will turn around and be a normal human being.  And I’m assuming that you also don’t know how many times I’ve had that very hope punched and taunted out of me.”

 

I didn’t notice that I was crying until a warm tear hit my hand.  I looked down at it in shock, my fists clenched tightly in my lap.  I felt so self conscious as I wiped my eyes, but at the same time I didn’t care.  It felt like I’d just confessed everything I’d had held inside to a person that I didn’t even know well.  What more did I have to lose?  After what I’d just admitted, I realized how stupid I was for going through this for so long  I was done being pushed around and told what to do.

 

“Get out of my car,” I muttered.

 

Keaton’s head lifted.  “What?”

 

“Get out of my car,” I repeated flatly.  I turned off the car and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

 

He looked confused as I packed up my lunch and gathered all of my notebooks together.  I stuffed them into my bag and stepped out the car.  When I saw Keaton hadn’t moved, I ducked down to look at him.

 

“Do I need to say it again?” I asked.  He quickly shook his head.

 

I stood up as Keaton slid out of the car.  We both slammed our doors and I locked it as I slung my bag around my shoulder.  I stepped up onto the sidewalk and faced Keaton, having to look up at his face.  He easily stood a head taller than me, but it didn’t intimidate me like Niall’s height had.

 

Sniffing quietly, I wiped under my eyes before opening my mouth.  I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to say.  My mouth closed, but not before I let out a strangled noise.  It sounded pathetic, and I was almost positive I looked the part just as well.  I was about to turn away from him and head to class when he stepped toward me.

 

I sucked in a sharp breath as his arms wrapped around my shoulders.  My body tensed as he pulled me into a hug.  A pain went through my chest.  I was still afraid of being touched.  I still braced for pain when there was no danger.  Niall had left me scarred in the way that I could never feel comfortable with anyone.  The realization itself nearly destroyed me.

 

I relaxed and buried my head in Keaton’s shoulder.  My hands rested at my sides, but even though I didn’t know him it felt nice to have a shoulder to cry on.  And that’s exactly what I did.

 

• • •

 

We didn’t make it back into class.  I tried to walk that way, but Keaton stopped me.  He lead me back to his truck and we sat in there for the rest of the school day.  We hid our faces as teachers walked by and shared a laugh when they didn’t notice us.  I’d calmed down by the time sixth period was half way through, but Keaton and I just sat and talked about everything and about nothing.

 

It was nice talking to him, or to anyone at all for that matter.  I realized that Keaton hadn’t hated me because of Niall, nor had anyone else.  I’d seemed quiet and submissive to them, and they’d kept their distance just because they didn’t want to cross Niall’s path.  Granted, I felt a little hurt, but at least I hadn’t been ignored for the reasons I’d thought.

 

“We all thought he hated you at first,” Keaton told me.  I winced, and he gave a wry smile.  “But recently I figured out that he was just isolating you in an attempt to get closer to you.”

 

“Some attempt,” I muttered under my breath,

 

Keaton shrugged.  “He tries, but it doesn’t work out well.”

 

“No,” I said.  “Not really.”

 

It was quiet for a long time.  I stared out the windshield at a small tree they’d just planted to try to give the school a cleaner look.  My breaths came slow and heavy, an example of the exhaustion I’d worked up from the stress I’d subjected myself to over the past few days.

 

“I can see why you like to eat out here,” Keaton spoke up.  I glanced over at him and found that he was studying my face.  I cocked my head at him and he smiled.  “It’s a lot quieter.  It’s nice.”

 

I gave a small smile.  “Yeah, saves me a headache.”

 

He was quiet for a second.  “How have you done it?”  My eyebrows furrowed.  “I mean go through all of this.  Being either alone or being treated like crap by Niall.”  I winced harshly.  “Sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” I looked down at my lap.  “It’s a good question.”  I shifted in the passenger’s seat to face him.  “I’m used to being alone, in the first place.  My parents are always gone — they have been since I could take care of myself and get to school.”  I bit my lip.  “And the abuse thing?  It’s really only a very small part of my life.  It just happens that it’s the worst part of it too.”

 

Keaton shook his head.  “I’ll tell you what; I couldn’t do it.”

 

A dry smile made it’s way onto my face.  “You could.  I do it almost daily.”

 

He didn’t answer, just turned to look out the windshield.  I did the same, my focus coming and going on a section of sidewalk.  We sat like this for a while, off in our own worlds.

 

I glanced at the time on the dashboard and sighed.  “It’s half past four.  I should head home.”  Keaton’s eyes flashed over at me and he nodded.  “Thanks,” I told him quietly.  “For talking to me.”

 

“Not a problem,” he answered.  “Maybe I’ll just come out and eat with you one of these days.  I’m serious, it’s really nice to eat in the quiet.”

 

A warm feeling filled my chest.  I’d made a friend — my first in a long time.  “Sure.”

 

I opened the truck’s door and slid out, slamming it behind me.  I stepped up onto the sidewalk as a few students passed me.  Sighing heavily, I adjusted my hair and threw it over my shoulders.

 

“Hey,” I heard Keaton’s voice close behind me.

 

I jumped, not expecting it.  He laughed as I turned, eyes wide.  I settled as I saw his smiling face and returned the expression.  I realized his arms were outstretched.  My heart beat a little faster.  _It’s okay,_ I told myself.  _He’s not Niall.  He won’t hurt you._

 

I smiled and stepped into his arms, wrapping mine around his torso.  My face pressed into his shoulder.  He smelled like pine needles — it was an odd smell for a guy, but it made me smile anyway.  I liked pine trees, especially around Christmas.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Keaton muttered, resting his chin on top of my head.

 

“Yeah,” I said into his shoulder.

 

“And about Niall…” he trailed off, as if debating what to say.

 

“What?” I asked.

 

He hesitated for a second before saying anything.  “I still think you should go and talk to him.”  I immediately pulled back from him.  His jaw was tight.  “Just to make sure he isn’t out of his mind.”

 

I sighed, weighing my options.  I didn’t have many.

 

“Okay,” I answered him quietly, the corners of my mouth tipped down.

 

“Hey,” he furrowed his eyebrows.  “If he gives you any more trouble, just let me know.”  He smiled.  “I’ll watch out for you now.”

 

I smiled as my chest filled with another wave of warmth.  “Thank you.”

 

“Anytime,” he said.  He started to back away.  “I’ve got to hit the road.  My parents have a strict ‘go right back home after school’ policy that I’m pretty sure they think I’m breaking.”

 

I laughed as he opened his car door.  “Bye,” I said.

 

“Bye,” he answered with a smile.

 

I turned away and started for my car.  I thought about what Keaton had said about Niall — ‘ _just to make sure he isn’t out of his mind’_.  What did that mean?

 

I probably should’ve planned on driving out to Niall’s as I slid into the drivers seat of my car.  But I didn’t feel like possibly offering myself up to anything Niall had to dish out.  He was probably angry that I’d ran out on him.  I’d give him time to cool off.

 

I started my car and headed for home.  It didn’t matter that I felt something toward Niall, or even if I didn’t.  There wasn’t I way I was going to talk to him right now — not yet.


	19. Nineteen.

I had a night free from Niall to do anything I wanted — right after I finished the assignments I’d missed from my talk with Keaton.

 

Thankfully, our teachers had web pages that they posted assigned work on.  They also provided an online textbook, which was an even greater luxury.

 

I finished physics first, since it was just a small bookwork piece.  Algebra II was just a worksheet that I printed off and completed in about ten minutes, and my elective art class didn’t have homework.

 

After I got done, I packed my bag for the next day at school and kicked back on the sofa in the living room.  I picked up one of my favorite books that I always kept on the small side table and began to flip through the pages.  I could reread the book as many times as I wanted, and I would still love it all the same.

 

Around nine my eyes started to drift closed, and I forced myself into the shower and into my bed.  As my eyes closed for the last time that night, I realized that Niall hadn’t even crossed my mind.

 

 

•••

 

 

I was surprised when Niall didn’t show up for school again.  I just found it strange that something I might have done would cause him to avoid everyone for two days in a row.

 

For some reason—maybe it was the extra sleep, or something else—I was in a good mood.  I managed to get all of my assignments done in class for the first half of school, and didn’t mind the walk out to my car for lunch.  The weather was nice, warm even for this time of year.  I wore a floral dress(<http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=105996468>) with a cream cardigan, and a pair of light brown boots were on my feet.  I’d left my hair to fall natural, and brushed it back from my face as I dug my keys out of the pocket of my sweater.

 

I sighed as I slid into the driver’s seat, tossing my bag into the other.  I closed my car door and propped the steering wheel up a bit to allow me to crisscross my legs.  Leaning back into the seat, I unzipped the lunch I’d packet again today.  I’d had extra time to get everything ready this morning, and hadn’t seen the harm in packing a lunch.  It felt nice to not have to concentrate on driving home, or really anything at all.

 

I pulled a spoon out of my bag and dipped it into the warm mac and cheese I’d kept in a thermos.  The salty cheese tasted great on my tongue, and I smiled to myself.  Today was getting to be a really good day.

 

I closed my eyes for a moment, and for the first time in a while I didn’t feel like I could’ve fallen asleep.  Maybe this is what a full day without Niall was like.  My chest squeezed a bit at the thought, but I couldn’t help but notice how nice it’d been.  I hadn’t had to worry; I hadn’t had to keep myself in check; I hadn’t had to be afraid for my emotions; I hadn’t had to worry about caring about him.  Maybe I could get used to this.  My lips turned down at my own thoughts, but I shook my head—I wasn’t going to spoil this day.

 

I heard a knock on the passenger’s side window and I let my eyes drift open.  Keaton stood in the window, smiling and waving.  I furrowed my eyebrows at him but rolled the window down anyway, interested to hear what he had to say.

 

“Hey,” I said.  It sounded like more of a hesitant question than a greeting.  “What are you doing here?”

 

“I came to eat with you,” he answered, leaning on the window frame.  “Just like I said I would.”

 

I shook my head at him.  “You don’t have to.  Go back and eat with your friends.”

 

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he laughed, opening the passenger’s door and sliding into the car.

 

I snatched my bag from the seat before he sat on it and tossed it into the back.  Then I turned back to him and shook my head again.  “Really.  You should go and be social.”

 

“And so should you,” he answered, closing the car door and digging into the bag he’d brought.  I sighed and rolled up the window, holding my spoon between my thumb and index finger.  “And I don’t think you’re going to go inside; so I won’t.”

 

I rolled my eyes.  “Fine.  When you lose all of your friends for talking to me, then don’t say I didn’t tell you so.

 

Keaton stopped what he was doing.  “Why would I lose my friends for talking to you?” he asked.  I felt my cheeks go hot.

 

“Well,” I trailed off, searching for an answer.  Niall had given me so many reasons to believe his friends hated me.  I had so many reasons right here with me, but I didn’t say one of them.  I was sure that Niall had pointed my flaws out to everyone, as he’d done so diligently with me.  Maybe he hadn’t, and Keaton didn’t notice any.

 

“Nothing,” I shook my head dismissively.  “You should still go eat with them.”

 

“Hey,” he said, turning his head to look straight at me.  I felt my cheeks get hot again as I looked back into his eyes.  “No.”

 

He added an innocent smile, and I couldn’t help but return it.  “You’re something,” I mumbled, kicking off my boots and crisscrossing my legs.  I took another bite of mac and cheese and sighed.

 

“What?” Keaton looked over, sandwich in hand.

 

I shrugged.  “Nothing.  It’s just that the purpose of ‘eating alone’ is kind of defeated when you’re…  Well, not _alone_.”

 

He rolled his eyes.  “I’ll be quiet,” he assured me, putting a finger to his lips.  “You won’t even know I’m here.”

 

I laughed quietly.  He smiled, knowing he’d won, and took a satisfactory bite out of his lunch.  We sat in the quiet for a long while, clearing out our lunch bags.  When I finished, I gathered everything up and tossed it into the back with my school bag.  Keaton was done a few  minutes after me and put his empty lunch bag at his feet.

 

“So,” he said, clapping his hands together.  “How are you?”

 

I took a deep breath and turned myself to face him.  “I’m okay.  And you?”

 

“Just peachy,” he replied in a posh accent.  I smiled and leaned my head against my seat.

 

“I just realized that you have a free period the same time I do,” I thought aloud, cocking my head to the side.  I checked the clock—it was the end of fourth period, right before our official lunch period.

 

“What a wonder that is,” Keaton said, shaking his head.  He rested his elbow on the middle arm rest and put his chin in his hand.

 

“I don’t appreciate sarcasm,” I waved my hand at him, turning to face forward.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, sticking out his bottom lip.

 

I turned up my chin, playing along.  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d joked around with anyone.  “I don’t know if you are.”

 

“Come on,” Keaton whined.

 

I felt a tug on the arm of my cardigan and my body stiffened.  My small smile dropped and I went numb automatically, cursing myself for the way I responded.  Touch was still a sensitive thing for me.  There wasn’t a way I could’ve controlled my reaction.  It just happened every time I seemed to get close to someone—which wasn’t often at all.

 

Keaton’s arm immediately drew back as if he’d been stung, and I whipped around to him with a distressed expression.  There I went again, throwing people back by acting the way I did.  I had to scramble for something to say.

 

“I—I’m sorry,” I said quickly.  “I didn’t mean to freak, I swear.  I just—I can’t—“

 

“Hey,” he held his hands up, his expression serious.  “It’s okay, I understand.”

 

My face fell into my hands.  “Why can’t I ever just have a normal conversation with anyone?” I groaned.

 

Keaton sighed.  “Because I don’t think you have in a long time.”

 

My eyes flashed up to his face.  He was serious, and I knew he was right.  I let out a shaky breath.  “Isn’t that the truth?” I said sarcastically.

 

It was quiet for a long moment as I stared out the windshield.  How was is that Keaton seemed to know just what was going on?  Niall wasn’t tormenting him—Keaton was one of Niall’s best friends.  Didn’t Niall rant to him about me?  Maybe that was how he knew exactly what I was being put through.

 

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s just him wanting to get a kick out of it,” I said quietly, more to myself than to Keaton.  “Everything that’s happened, you know.  He might just be faking the nice part of him.”

 

Keaton waited a second before speaking.  “He’s not all bad.  He may seem like it, but that’s not him.  There’s a reason that he’s so angry sometimes.”

 

My interest spiked.  “Why is that?”  I turned my head to him.

 

He bit his lip.  “He’ll kill someone if I tell you.”

 

I rolled my eyes.  “First of all, it will probably be me he kills; second, anything he throws at me won’t be anything I haven’t been hit with before.”

 

“Literally,” Keaton shook his head, sounding ashamed with his friend.  My jaw clenched.

 

“Really.  I want to know.”  I hesitated, then reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.  His head lifted and I immediately drew my arm back, resting it in my lap.  “I’ll never understand if you don’t tell me.  If I ever hope of talking to him again, I need to know what’s wrong.”

 

His eyes widened.  “You haven’t talked to him yet?”  He rubbed his forehead.  “Maybe that’s why he’s gone again,” he mumbled quickly.

 

I waved it off.  “I’ll do it tonight, as long as you tell me.”

 

Keaton shook his head again.  “I’m going to get my arse handed to me.  All for you, Samm.”

 

I smiled, my cheeks growing warm.  No one had done anything for me in a long while, let alone point it out.  I turned toward him again, leaning the most of my shoulder against the seat’s back.  Keaton did the same, letting his legs shift to the footwell of the passenger’s seat.

 

“Don’t pity him,” Keaton stated flatly.  “I’m just telling you now, because he’ll get livid if you do.”  I nodded, encouraging him to continue.  When he did, he spoke quickly.  “When Niall was younger, his dad died.  He drank, not too much.  But his dad had a heart attack right after he turned forty-five, and the doctors couldn’t make his heart beat again.  Niall was crushed the most out of all of his family.  He and his dad were really close, and it really took its toll on him.  Niall just works…  Differently than everyone else.”

 

I blinked.  Once, twice.  My fingers tingled, and I got an ache in my chest.  His dad died.  I had no idea what that felt like, but I could understand the amount of pain he must’ve gone through.  Then I suddenly remembered the picture I’d seen on Niall’s camera; the one with Maura, Niall, his brother, and the other man.  It must’ve been his father, and that’s why Niall’s emotions had swung so wildly.  Something just clicked, and it all made sense.

 

My hand found my mouth and I closed my eyes.  “Oh my God,” I mumbled into my skin, the words getting distorted.  “That’s why.”

 

I didn’t know I was crying until I felt a hot tear run down my cheek.  I swiped it quickly, then turned away from Keaton.  He didn’t need to see me get emotional, especially over someone I cared for.  I nearly laughed at myself— _cared for_ seemed like it had such a corrupt definition in my case.

 

“He’s been afraid of losing things he cares about since then,” Keaton continued.  “Granted, he doesn’t deal with it the right way.  He prefers to push people away, as opposed to letting them in.”

 

I shook my head, amazed.  So many things were going on with Niall, and I had no idea.  I’d just thought that he was torturing me for fun.  He’d been trying to push me away so he wouldn’t get hurt if I left.  My chest constricted and my stomach fluttered.  Niall pushed away the people he cared for—Niall cared for me.

 

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said quietly.  “I had no idea.”

 

“Don’t pity him,” Keaton said quickly.  “Like I said, he doesn’t want people feeling sorry for him and trying to push past the walls he’s got built up around himself.  He’ll explode.”

 

I took a deep breath, staring out at the small trees planted in the front campus of the school.  I didn’t know what to say—what could I have said anyway?  My feelings toward Niall were all over the place, and I didn’t know what I would’ve proved if I said anything.  My parents were always gone; they had almost never even been there.  But Niall’s father was gone.  He didn’t even have a choice.

 

I just shook my head, staring blankly out the windshield.  “I don’t even know what to say.”

 

Keaton shrugged.  “There’s nothing really to say.  You just have to understand.”

 

I bit my lip.  Even after hearing that Niall’s father had died, I was still unconvinced that Niall had an excuse to be the way he was.  Pushing someone away was one thing; but physically hurting them was another.  I was so breakable, and Niall knew that.  In fact, Niall was the reason for the fragility I had.  I didn’t think that even this news could bring me crawling back to Niall.

 

“Keaton, I still don’t—“

 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he cut in.  “‘ _There is still no way I should let him walk all over me_ ’,” he quoted my thoughts.  “But think about it this way; he tried to kiss you, right?”

 

My eyes went wide as my head turned to Keaton.  My cheeks grew warm and I ducked my head.  “How do you know about that?”

 

Keaton waved me off.  “Niall tells me nearly everything.”

 

My face fell into my hands again.  _Of course he did._

 

“Samm,” he said.  I felt a hand rest on my shoulder, and I stifled my flinch.  “I understand why you ran.  But you have to realize that what Niall did was a huge step for him.”

 

I didn’t think Keaton understood why I ran from Niall.  It had seemed like all of Niall’s time was devoted to making my life miserable and destroying any trust I had _ever_.  Niall kissing me had felt like a violation; another way to wedge himself into my mind.  If anyone in this situation was guarded, it was me.  I bit my tongue.

 

“I’m not trying to say that you did anything wrong,” Keaton continued, squeezing my shoulder.  “Because you didn’t.  But when you ran, Niall saw it as another person he cared about leaving.  You’re the first person I’ve seen him let in in a long time.”

 

He may have let _me_  in, but he’d forced his way into _my_ head.  I didn’t want the cruel Niall.  I wanted the Niall who had joked around while we’d started our project.  But whenever I thought I had him, he disappeared.  Talk about hypocrisy.

 

I reached my hand to the necklace Niall had given me.  It reminded me of the Niall I wanted, the one that I’d found almost two weeks ago.  I looked up at Keaton, confused and filled with anxiety.  He patted my back with a smile, then sat back in his seat.

 

“He’s blown all of his shots,” he stated simply.

 

I nodded.  That was obvious.

 

“He’s been just about the worst he can be,” Keaton continued.  I nodded again.  “You’re angry.  You’re frustrated.  You’re spent.  He’s confusing.  You wish you could erase the last few months and forget Niall.”  I winced at that statement, but nodded at all of the others.  Keaton was right.

 

“But,” he said, making the word sound like a whole sentence.  I ran a hand through my hair, waiting for him to say something—anything.  “Most of all, you’re willing to give him another shot.”

 

My jaw clenched.  I gripped tighter to the necklace, flustered.  I didn’t know what to do.  Part of me wanted to just forget Niall and everything that had happened in the last week and continue without him; the other wanted to remember, but push all of the memories away and start again like Niall had tried before.  I couldn’t tell which part of me wanted which more.

 

But slowly, I found myself nodding.

 

 

∞∞∞∞∞

 

 

Four hours later, as the sun was just starting to set, I parked me car in the driveway.  My heart was pounding as I stepped out of the driver’s side and onto the pavement, closing the door behind me.  My phone was clutched in my hand and I smoothed my dress down.

 

My feet carried me slowly up to the porch.  I hesitated in front of the door, my face burning with flustered stress.  I couldn’t do this.  I was too afraid, too cautious.  What would he do?  My face fell to the ground.  I had to do this.  I had to.

 

Slowly, my arm raised.  What would he think?  What would happen?  Could it really be that he was just pushing me away because he cared about me?  That was one heck of a way of showing someone you cared, but somehow I understood it.  Niall deserved a little give, and I deserved a little resolution.

 

My hand tapped on the door.  Once, twice, three times.  Then I stood and waited.  I waited long enough that I almost walked back to my car.  But just as I was about to turn, the knob twisted.  My chest heaved and my face burned hotter.

 

It was too late to go back now.


	20. Twenty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I kind of just realized today that I hadn't uploaded the chapter I was supposed to like four months ago... hehe... So I've been withholding this chapter from you all for a very long time, and I apologize. It was an honest mistake. Anyway, I had to go on a long break because of school and midterms and everything and so here is this chapter, along with another chapter that will be a little bit longer than usual (I think) that will be finished and posted in a few days. Thank you all for being so patient and leaving kudos and comments. I love you guys!!! xx <3

I froze as his gaze landed on me, an animal caught in the headlights of a speeding vehicle. The evening sun shone on his eyes, making the soft blue take on a transparent hue. His expression was far from the look in his eyes—Niall was opaque, unreadable. He was wearing a dark blue polo and tan shorts, his hair tousled and eyes tired. My stomach tied into a knot; I wasn’t sure whether it was because I was nervous or something else entirely.

At first, I didn’t think it registered in Niall’s mind that it was me standing on his porch. I stood, shifting my weight between feet and trying to keep my breathing even. The last time I’d seen Niall, I’d been kissed and ran away. I mentally kicked myself for being such a coward. What Keaton had said made sense—Niall hadn’t been trying to hurt me. He would’ve gone at it the usual way if he’d wanted to do harm. When his eyes widened slightly and his eyebrows rose, I knew he’d noticed the nerve-wracked girl on his porch. I crossed my arms over my chest, slouching to try to make myself look as small as possible. Maybe I could disappear if I tried hard enough.

I saw Niall’s grip on the door grow tighter and my heart sped up. _Look at what you’ve gone and done now, Samm. He’s back to what he was before_. My teeth gnawed anxiously on the insides of my cheeks.

“Samm,” was the first word out of his mouth. It sounded strained, like he was embarrassed. I almost winced. Nothing could come close to how embarrassed I felt; my cheeks burned painfully in the evening sun.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My throat seized up and my vocal chords wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway; I didn’t even know what to say. How could I even look him in the eye when I’d ran from him and avoided contact for two days?

“What are you doing here?” Niall said. His voice was flat, with no hint of a question anywhere. I felt like it was more of an attempt at dismissal than anything.

“I-I-“ I stuttered, biting on my lip when nothing came out of my mouth. “I just-“

“Don’t,” Niall shook his head, and I froze.

_What?_

“W-what?” I asked. My hands were shaking.

“Apologize,” he said. “Don’t say you’re sorry—you don’t have a reason to be.”

I blinked. “Apologize?”

Is that what I’d come here to do? My mind went blank. I’d come here to talk to Niall, but it’d never occurred to me that I’d be apologizing for humiliating not only him, but myself. Apologize? Niall was right. I didn’t have anything to be sorry for. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.

“If that’s what you came here to do,” Niall spoke cautiously, his brow furrowing.

My mouth hung open. The only reason I’d come was to talk to him. Just talk—that’s all. It hadn’t even occurred to me that to have a conversation, there had to be something to talk about.

“Samm?” Niall pressed, leaning further out the door.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “That’s not—I didn’t—“ I sighed. “I don’t know what I came here for.”

I may as well have slapped myself. I was such an idiot; for coming here, for listening to Keaton, for feeling something toward Niall, for even putting up with Niall in the first place. This whole thing, this whole situation; was my fault. My fists began to curl. Maybe I did have something to apologize for, and it was making me furious at myself.

“I came here to make sure you were okay,” I told Niall, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

His strained hand on the doorframe barely registered in my mind. I’d seen it so many times, and I’d lived through all of it. And now, knowing that Niall cared about me, I knew that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me more than he had before. Niall looked confused.

“I’m fine. I don’t know why you would think I wasn’t.” He said it defensively, and I caught a tone that sounded incredulous. Was it really so hard to believe that I cared about him?

“Maybe because you’ve been gone for two whole days after I—“ I paused, closing my mouth. My face warmed at what I’d almost said. _After I ran from your kiss_. I shook my head. “Is it bad that I wanted to make sure you’re not dead? You came over when I’d been gone for one day. Cut me some slack.”

Niall’s jaw clenched. “I’m fine. I just haven’t been feeling well.”

I nodded. “Okay.” His nostrils flared after a moment of silence.

“If that’s all you came here to say…”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “It sounds like you want me to say something else.”

Niall’s eyes flashed to the ground, then somewhere above my head, then back to my gaze. I couldn’t read his expression. I was as conflicted as he sounded. What else did he want me to say? That I was sorry I ran away from him after he’d toyed with my emotions?

“I just-“ It was his turn to stutter under a stare. He leaned hard against the doorframe. “I screwed up… But I wasn’t expecting you to leave like that after I tried to make it up to you.”

And there it was. Niall was still thinking about it, probably just as much as I had been. What did that tell me? So far, nothing. I mentally shook my head at myself. Seeing his reaction to me standing on his doorstep, to what we were talking about, to my responses; my confidence was building. I wasn’t the only conflicted one.

“Kissing me was supposed to _make up_ for everything?” I said, drawing my eyebrows together.

I guess that was the question that hit home. Niall was taken visually aback.

“Well—I—I didn’t,” he seemed to be trying to come up with an excuse, but I didn’t think he had one. Honestly, I didn’t think he even had anything to say. My face was still burning, confidence helping nothing about the humiliation I was reliving in my head.

“I don’t care what you didn’t do, Niall,” I sighed, closing my eyes and running a hand through my hair. “I’m talking about what you _did_  do. I didn’t come to apologize; I want an explanation.”

I’d finally worked it out of my mouth, into audible words. I was shocked at myself, even having the ability to talk to Niall like this when I knew what he was capable of. But thanks to Keaton, I also knew what he _wasn’t_ capable of anymore. If Keaton was right, Niall wouldn’t lay a harmful hand on me again.

“Samm,” Niall’s voice wavered. My eyes opened. He looked as shocked at me as I was. “It’s really—hard to explain.”

“Try,” I retorted immediately. I spread out my hands. “I have all the time in the world.”

Niall glanced back into his home, moving his body to see different areas of the house. He then stepped down onto the porch, closing the front door behind him. I naturally began to take a step back, putting distance between Niall and I, but I stopped myself. Giving Niall the impression I was uncomfortable in his presence—even though I was—wouldn’t have been a good idea. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wooden door. I watched his expression carefully, and our eyes held each other for a moment before he glanced down at the ground.

“I—all of the—it just,” he tried again and again to start, but it took him a long while to finally collect his thoughts and look at me again. “All of this, the way I’ve treated you… It shouldn’t have happened.”

I almost scoffed, struggling to keep my mouth from dropping. Did he really think he needed to tell _me_ that?

“I should’ve just told you, but…” He trailed off, looking somewhere to the right of me. “I didn’t know… It was…”

Niall let out a noise of frustration, pushing off from the door and brushing past me, stalking down the porch. I turned as my eyes followed him to a thick tree in the middle of his front yard. He put his hand against the bark, his other fist clenched at his side. “I don’t know how to say it, Samm.”

I sucked in a breath. _That makes two of us_. I took a step down the stairs, my feet stepping softly onto the grass. The shade of the large tree covered my face from the sunset as I studied Niall, trying to read him in any way possible. I felt like I needed this from him; he sort of owed it to me. Niall leaned against the tree, just looking at me for a long moment. A whole minute passed where neither of us said anything. It was to the point when I thought he would never say anything at all when his mouth finally moved.

“I showed everything the wrong way,” he said. Niall’s hands laced behind his head, his expression almost pained. “Treating you like that was a big mistake, and you’ll probably never forgive me.”

I nodded, knowing he was right. How could I forgive him for all of it? “You’re right, Niall. I won’t.”

Even from ten feet away I saw his jaw clench.

“Look, there are a lot of reasons I did what I did. I wouldn’t just hurt you for no reason.”

My jaw dropped. “They had better be good reasons, Niall. You shouldn’t hurt anyone.”

He threw his hands down at his sides. “Look,” he said, raising his voice. “I said I was sorry. That might not be enough for you, but I don’t know what else to give. Hurting you was a mistake, one that I don’t want to make anymore.”

“Give me a reason!” The volume of my voice increased with his, trying to get my point across. “Sorry won’t work, and whatever you think was logical may not be either. But at least I’m trying to understand! You can’t go at me when I was the person to try to say anything at all.”

His gaze tipped down. “I… can’t give you a reason.”

This answer should’ve been one to give me more confidence—it sounded like he’d just told me everything he’d ever said or done didn’t have fuel. There was nothing on me worth burning. But instead, my eyes filled to the brim with tears.

“So all of this time you’ve been hurting me and beating me down with words; you can’t give me anything that might have set it off?” My voice shook, and I fought to keep the tears in my eyes. I’d had so much practice. Niall’s head rose to meet my expression, thrown off by my sudden atmospheric change.

“Damn it, Samm! I deal with things differently, okay? Everything comes out wrong!”

My breath wavered heavily, eyes burning. “So that kiss, Niall?” My chest heaved. “That must’ve come out _way_ wrong.”

His whole expression went slack, watching me begin to break down. I panicked, covering my face with my hands. Keaton was wrong, I shouldn’t have gone to talk to Niall. In the back of my head I’d known something like this would happen, but I never would have anticipated that I’d break down like this. Niall had never stricken so deep; using my own feelings against me was cruel.

My feet were moving before my mind could process it. I strode to my car, my only possible chance of getting away now. My feet slapped against the concrete, more willing to leave Niall than I ever had been. I shoved my hand into my pocket and pulled out my keys, unlocking the car and reaching for the handle. But as soon as I grabbed it, I felt a heavy hand on my wrist. A tear streamed down my face as I whipped around, jerking from Niall’s grip. His face looked so worried, but so hidden at the same time. I wanted to think that he cared, but I didn’t know him at all; I’d convinced myself otherwise, but now I was questioning what part of me had ever thought that.

“Go away,” I nearly whimpered through clenched teeth. I was shaking with anger, angst built up in the center of my chest.

“Samm,” Niall started, but I interrupted him by shoving him back from me.

He stumbled back into the grass, stunned. I stood, horrified at myself. I’d never physically pushed or hit anyone. What was Niall doing to my mind? My hands shook, but I clenched them and reached for the car again.

“Samm, you can’t leave,” Niall’s voice sounded desperate behind me, and I heard his footsteps moving closer. I wrenched the car door open and glanced back at Niall.

“Watch me.” My body started to slide into the driver’s seat, but his words stopped me.

“Samm,” he spoke calmly, but I knew better. More tears stung my eyes, angry at my inability to keep my cool. “You can’t leave, because I have to tell you something.”

My head whipped in his direction. “What,” I barely whispered.

“You’re wearing the necklace I gave you,” he stated, glancing at the charm around my neck.

I laughed dryly, looking down at it through wet eyes. “Funny, right?” I said bitterly. “You can have it back.”

I stood back on the driveway and moved my hands to unclasp the chain, but Niall moved forward quicker than I could react. I flinched hard under his touch as his hands held onto my forearms, moving me closer than I wanted to be to him.

“Stop,” I whimpered, but had no will or energy to move away. Niall was in control now, and I could only imagine what he’d do after I’d raised my voice and humiliated him.

“No,” Niall answered, his voice quiet. I winced, waiting for the pressure of his fingers in my arms—but when nothing came, I let out a sob. Why was Niall doing this to me?

“Samm, I don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes trailed to the necklace dangling around my neck. “It looks good on you.”

I shut my eyes tightly, squeezing tears out onto my cheeks. Niall was so close, his chest almost touching mine. I was very aware of his touch on my arms, making shallow and shaking breaths leave my throat.

“I—“ Niall started, but stopped. I could almost feel him studying my face. “I… Care about you, Samm. A lot.”

My eyes opened and I stared up at him in disbelief. Had those words really just left his mouth? His blue eyes stared back into mine, like they were searching me for anything he could get ahold of.

“You don’t,” I whispered. “You can’t.”

He shook his head slightly. “I can, and I do. I’ve showed it in all the wrong ways, but I care about you more than I have anyone else, Samm.”

My jaw went slack, tears still finding their way down my cheeks. Niall couldn’t be saying this. There was no way. It just felt like even the possibility of it was too far off. Having feelings for Niall wasn’t supposed to be a good thing, not supposed to get me anywhere; it most certainly shouldn’t be returned. But as I looked at Niall, and at his expression, I realized that he was letting me in. He wasn’t closed off, wasn’t trying to hide anything from me. I couldn’t believe it; it was impossible. But then again, a lot of unbelievable things had already happened in ten minutes. Niall was telling the truth. The thought both weighed me down and lifted me, throwing thoughts around in my head like crazy. I didn’t know what to do, and I couldn’t put together any words. So many things shoved to the front of my mind, fighting for dominance.

But what won over everything else wasn’t to leave him—it was to do probably the most stupid thing I’d ever done. I looked up at Niall’s eyes, his face closer than I normally would’ve tolerated. But not right now.

Tears falling hard, face on fire, and chest impossibly tight, I tipped my head up and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for reading and I'm sorry for keeping this from you for so long! Another chapter up in the next few days (fingers crossed). Please don't be afraid to leave comments, I love hearing from you all! Love you lots! xx


	21. Twenty One.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*Pre-Chapter note: I have had some serious troubles with my right wrist over the past year and couple of months. 
> 
> *If you _don't_ want to hear about my current wrist situation that will effect me throughout the next six months, then skip the next paragraph.*
> 
> *We went to a sports medicine doctor for my wrist and scheduled an MRI. When the MRI results came back, they revealed that I had pinched a blood vessel leading to my lunate bone, causing the bone to die. Yes, I have a dead bone in my wrist. Oops. Anyway, we set up an appointment with a surgeon and saw him last month. When he ordered an X-ray in the office, I got one and he looked at it for a long time, along with the MRI film. He then turned to me and told me that I couldn't play softball this season. I thought at first he was kidding, but when I figured out he wasn't, I was devastated. He told me that I had a rare condition called Keinbach's or whatever, where the lunate bone dies and begins to deteriorate. There was a big dark area on that bone in my X-ray, and he told me that was one of many cysts that were forming on and in it; so pretty bad stuff, right? He put me in a cast right away to hopefully try and save the bone in its current state, which I don't know how he could do that if it's already flat and continuing to shrink. But anyway, I had to travel up to a bigger hospital to get a second opinion, where they did some type of surgery to save the bone or bring it back to life or whatever. (I had surgery last week) So in any case, I have to stay out of everything for at least six months. And guess what everything means? Typing, too. So I will basically have an absence of updates for six months from surgery. I'm technically not supposed to be typing now. And for that, I am so, so sorry.*
> 
> *So basically yeah, that really sucks. So this is possibly the last update until around Christmas time, all because of my stupid wrist. I really want to update for you all, but I physically will not be able to. I can't even wash my own hair. So I really hope you enjoy this update. Expect one around Christmas time, hopefully sooner. Please enjoy, and just know that I love you all and it pains me to not be able to write or play softball for six months... So have a good night, and please feel free to comment!*)
> 
> Also, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE KUDOS <3

I couldn’t believe what I’d just done. After today, I was going to need to have a serious talk with myself. Whenever I was with Niall, something always seemed to end up different than I expected. This was… Well, this was almost the complete opposite of what I’d pictured going on.

He was obviously surprised—who wouldn’t be? But it only lasted a moment. His body transitioned from rigid to relaxed in an instant. I learned fast that Niall was much better at things like this than I, because his hands immediately found my waist and his fingers curled around the slack in my dress. I felt awkward, not knowing where to move my own hands. I settled for resting them just above his forearm, fiddling with the end of his polo’s sleeves. He began to lead the kiss, our noses brushing softly. I felt Niall’s eyelashes against the brim of my nose and I gradually leaned back against my car.

I became very aware of how uncomfortable I was as one of Niall’s hands moved from my waist to my neck, just below my cheek. My heart was hammering in my ears and my insides were twisted into painful knots. I was scared—but this was a different scared than I’d ever been with Niall. I felt exposed and needy, throwing myself at him like I’d just done. It was embarrassing.

I felt myself pull away quickly, my face burning with newfound shame in my feelings for Niall. Looking away quickly to avoid his eyes, I tried to make distance between him and the car so I could open the door. I could tell Niall was confused, but I wasn’t about to stick around to see his confusion turn to frustration. My hand found the door handle and I tugged it open.

“Samm,” Niall said. I ignored him, beginning to slide into the driver’s seat.

I held in a noise of surprise when I felt his hand on my waist. It caught me off guard, causing me to pause long enough for Niall to wrap his whole arm around me, pulling my body back to his.

“Samm,” he said again. I could feel his fingers against my side, holding me with just enough pressure to feel comforting. How had he switched so quickly from hurting to careful?

I avoided his eyes as if my life depended on it. My gaze focused on a spot on the driveway where a clump of grass had grown between the cracks in the cement. Niall said my name again, but I didn’t answer. My arms hung limply at my sides and the light breeze played with my hair.

Niall’s hand was suddenly underneath my chin. My jaw tightened as he gently tipped my head up to look at him. His blue eyes were the softest I’d ever seen them, his expression the most kind. He studied my face for a few seconds that felt like years. I became increasingly self-conscious of my actions—why had I pulled away? What was I so afraid of?

“Samm,” Niall said for the fourth time, and this time his face was only a few inches from mine. I stared up at him, begging him with my eyes to let me go so I wouldn’t feel so vulnerable. “What was that?”

My mouth trembled, the corners tipping down. “I—I don’t,” I stuttered, shutting my eyes tightly. What _had_ that been? I’d had a complete and utter lapse in judgement; just a small moment of crazy. I was back now, and I remembered everything that had happened between Niall and I—all of the reasons we both had not to let what just happened happen.

“I don’t know,” I finally managed. My eyes were still squeezed shut, and I had no desire to see the look of disdain his expression probably held. Niall was lying about caring for me. There could be no way.

“Please don’t be afraid of me, Samm,” Niall said quietly. I was stunned when I caught a hint of hurt in his tone. “That’s the last thing I want right now, or ever. I won’t give you another reason to be afraid again.”

I wasn’t afraid of his touch or his words then. I was afraid of what he was promising and how true he would—could—be to his words. I was scared of exposing myself more than I had, of letting myself believe something that wasn’t true. Niall was an excellent liar, but the reasoning part of my brain told me that if he was truly repulsed by me, he would’ve stopped before kissing me.

“Please say something, Samm,” Niall spoke softly. His hand moved from my chin to my cheek, grazing his thumb across my cheek bone. It was only then that I realized I’d been silent for almost a minute.

I sucked in a long breath. “I want to believe you,” I said, hardly loud enough for myself to hear.

“Then believe me,” Niall breathed. “Please, believe me. No strings attached. I just want you.”

A sensation somewhere between butterflies and a punch in the gut hit me. I wanted to believe him so badly. I cared for Niall, this side of Niall. This was who I wanted, but I never knew how long he would last. It seemed every day like he was with me longer and longer, but letting my guard down would make the return of Niall’s other side that much more painful.

I had never been very good at words, with anyone. I answered him in the easiest way I could muster.

“Make me,” I told him.

My eyes drifted open. In a split second I saw something in his expression change. I became more aware of his fingers on my waist as they pressed against me tighter, pulling me toward him. Before I had time to blink, he lowered his face to mine and kissed me.

For the first time I could remember, I didn’t flinch at Niall’s touch—I sank into it. He pressed against me, his lips moving against mine much more urgent than before. The upper part of my back pressed against my car while Niall’s arm pulled my stomach to his. My hair moved with the breeze, tickling the back of my neck. But that wasn’t what was giving me chills.

I rested one of my hands on Niall’s chest, reaching for his cheek with the other. He took this as an invitation to deepen our kiss, pressing his lips to mine harder and more deliberate.

My insides were swirling with every kind of emotion there was. This was also the first time I’d ever felt comfortable with Niall after a conversation with raised voices. The closest I’d ever been to him, the most open I’d ever been, the most open _he’d_ ever been… There were a lot of firsts.

Almost too soon Niall was pulling away, coaxing me to stand on my toes before breaking apart. I took my bottom lip between my teeth, searching his eyes for any sign of discontent. What had I done wrong? My heart pounded and my stomach twisted.

“Do you believe me?” Niall spoke softly. I felt his breath on my face, just inches away.

It didn’t even seem like a question anymore. Maybe my judgement was clouded, but I suddenly felt that Niall was worthy of my forgiveness. What he’d done had been horrible to live through, but in a short amount of time I’d seen him change for the better. I’d hardly seen his bad side in a week, and he’d told me he cared for me. This couldn’t be a sick joke—I knew Niall well enough that if he were truly ashamed to even look at me, this wouldn’t have happened. No, this wouldn’t have even have been a thought to glance across my mind. I believed Niall more than he probably expected.

My answer was pulling him down by his collar for another kiss. He smiled against my lips and I did the same, resisting the urge to throw my arms completely around him. I was happy, happier than I’d ever been in his presence. Niall had finally accepted me, and I had done the same for him.

Then I pulled back, breathless, and rested my head on his shoulder. I let my hands drop to wrap loosely around his torso and he kissed my temple. Niall draped his arms over my shoulders, rubbing my back and humming softly. It sounded nice.

 

 

•••

 

 

Eventually we ended up sitting on his porch, talking until our throats were dry about things we’d never talked about with each other. We discussed television shows, books, movies, and people until the sun went down; after that, we stopped talking and just listened. The night air still held a bit of spring’s cold bite as the season transitioned into summer, but bugs still buzzed and did whatever they do at night.

It was so cliche and cheesy, all of it. I loved it, because I’d never shared anything like it with anyone.

My legs were resting across Niall’s lap and his arm was around my waist while I leaned my head in the crook of his shoulder. He was warm, enough to fight off the cold creeping up on us. I closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of his shirt.

“It’s getting late,” I mumbled mindlessly. “I don’t know if you are, but I’m going to class tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Niall agreed. “I suppose I’ve got to, don’t I?”

He didn’t expect an answer, so I didn’t give him one. We sat for a few minutes before his phone buzzed in his pocket. I blinked, surprised. I didn’t know he had it with him. Niall dug around for it and pulled it out, then clicked off the notification, but not before I saw the time.

“It’s _really_  late,” I stated, sitting up.

“It’s not that late,” Niall teased, pulling me back.

“It’s a quarter to midnight, Niall,” I answered incredulously. I moved my legs to stand, leaving him sitting. “I’ve got to go.”

He tugged at my hand. “Fine,” Niall said after a bit.

I smiled, glancing down at him. It was dark, but the light coming from his house through the window allowed me to see the blue of his eyes shining up at me. I squeezed his hand, then let it drop before walking to down to my car. Half way there I realized I’d left them in the car before Niall had pulled me out, and I blushed. My hand found the handle and I pulled the door open.

“Wait,” I heard Niall say, not three paces behind me.

I turned, just in time for his lips to meet mine. A noise of surprise escaped my throat and he chuckled, the vibration dancing from his mouth to mine. We held the kiss for several long seconds before I patted his chest and pulled away.

“Really, I’ve got to go.”

“Okay,” Niall said softly, the corners of his mouth tugging up. “Drive safe.”

He stole another short kiss before I slid into the driver’s seat. I started the car and put it into gear, then rolled down the window.

“Goodnight, Niall,” I said. I felt my cheeks begin to redden again.

“Goodnight,” he replied, stepping back for me to pull out. “And Samm?” he began again as I backed out into the street. “I’m glad you came today.”

I smiled, hoping he could see it. I rolled up the window and turned into the street, beginning the short ride home.

_I am too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, hope you all enjoyed. I really am not allowed to type, so I've got to be short with it... But I love you so much, and thank you all for leaving comments. I will try to get around to answering them all in the next few minutes.
> 
> Love Goes Out.xx


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